


Let Me Go (We'll Meet Again Soon)

by BayleyWinchester



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dark James "Bucky" Barnes, Dark Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kidnapped AU, Kidnapping, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17680235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayleyWinchester/pseuds/BayleyWinchester
Summary: Wrong Place Wrong Time.Story of your life, right?You were just on your lunch break when you stumbled onto a murder scene - murder still commencing - which led to you in the back of two strange, handsome, strangers. The last thing you expected to happen was a whirlwind romance.{A/N so they're serial killers but it's never super detailed, they're not 100% bad people (are they justified? Let's find out) and they don't hurt the reader.}





	1. Chapter 1

Wrong place wrong time.

A common expression that you’d heard many times in your life. You’d said when you walked in on your best friend and her boyfriend. When you’d gone on a holiday the same week as a tropical storm hit. Or when you were driving and got hit by a drunk driver. Wrong place wrong time. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could prepare you for the ultimate example of wrong place wrong time. 

~*~

It was an average day really. You’d arrived at the daycare you worked at to find no children crying and no one fighting, which was a little bonus, and the day had gone smoothly since then. Then it was lunch. The daycare was next to a mall, which held a food court and seeing as you had forgotten lunch you went there. It wasn’t common to do so, expensive and unhealthy food, but it wasn’t the first time either. 

So you ate, and then you walked into the bathroom. You didn’t think anything of the closed stalls and while you were in your stall you didn’t think anything of the door opening. Mistake.

Stepping out your hands flew to your mouth as you gasped, your steps faulting and your heart beating faster than it had ever done before that moment. In front of the door was one man, chin length dark brown hair and all black clothes. In front of the sink was the other man, short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. When you gasped they both looked to you, shock on their faces as well. 

It wasn’t, however, the men that caused you to gasp. But the dead man on the bathroom floor, his head turned to you and his eyes open, staring up and at you. His mouth open in a permanent scream and blood surrounding him. You stepped back, tearing your gaze from the dead man to the other two. Who were now looking at each other and not you. Your hands were still covering your mouth, so you could tell when you started breathing again. 

In sync, the two alive men stood, surprisingly free of blood, and turned to you. Your eyes went even wider. These two killers had just put their sole attention on you and only you and it was the most terrifying thing you’d ever witnessed. You didn’t even have time to react before the blonde was holding your shoulders and the brunette was pushing a cloth over your mouth. 

Having read many books you knew exactly what was on the cloth so you tried not to breath, although that plan was stalled by the fact you were hyperventilating at this point. Gasping in and out. Within only a few moments you started feeling dizzy. The blonde’s grip loosened slightly and you were pushed over, gently, and tipped into the blonde’s arms. Suddenly lifted into a bridal carry, the cloth being taken away just as your eyes started to close. As you flickered in and out of consciousness you heard, who you presumed to be, the brunette taking. 

“What do we do?” His voice sounded concerned, which was confusing - even in your state - because he had just been playing lookout so that they could kill someone. The blonde replied but you were already to far gone to make out what they were saying, it was as if you were underwater now. You felt a hand on your thigh and panic gripped you but then all that happened was you were re-adjusted as you finally slipped into full unconscious. 

~*~

When you started coming too you could tell that you were in a car. Not in a trunk - thank goodness - but in the back seat. Across your chest was the seatbelt and your hands were tied together and placed behind your back. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it wasn’t the worst either. What was worse was the fact that you had just been kidnapped. Kidnapped by two people that had just killed a man. 

You weren’t entirely awake just yet. It felt like you were dozing but by force. The hum of the engine and the gentle vibrations were making it even harder to stay awake. You opened your eyes a little, sunlight streaming in and making your developing headache ten times worse almost instantly. Snapping your eyes closes you pictured what you had seen. First off, you were nowhere near home seeing as you were now driving along the coast and you lived way inland. Second, both were in the car - blonde driving and brunette in the passage seat. And finally, they were holding hands. 

Waking up as much as you could, but keeping your eyes closed because you didn’t want to deal with that pain, you listened in. Trying to figure out which one was one by where their voices were coming from in the very small car. The, what you guessed, blonde was speaking softly. Almost too quietly for you to hear but you got it in the end, after forcing yourself to wake up even more. “I don’t know. We can’t kill her.”

“I never suggested that,” the other one spoke. Most likely the brunette. He sounded like the man in the bathroom so that gave more credibility to it being him. The fact that they were talking about you didn’t even register for a few more seconds. Your heart started going faster and you had to control yourself, making sure you didn’t gasp and alert them to your now conscious status. “People are going to come after her?”

And they wouldn’t come after the man? Was all you could think. The fact that they didn’t care that they had killed someone lead you to think it wasn’t the first - or second - time that they had done it. Which was even more terrifying. You had been kidnapped by serial killers. “We can’t just let her go,” the blonde replied. You wanted to argue, you’d gladly say you knew nothing if it meant you could go home right now. 

Staying awake was getting harder and harder to do, the idea of falling back into the welcoming darkness looking more appealing every second. The brunette replied, something about figuring it out - you couldn’t quite get it. And then the radio was turned up so it was audible. It was something, some kind of soft jazz or classical music. That, coupled with the fact that one of them was humming and the gentle sway of the car, meant you fell back under before you could stop yourself. Not that you really wanted to anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up the first thing you noticed was the headache. Then the fact that your arms were tied to a headboard behind your head. Then the fact that you had been kidnapped came rushing back. It was a terrifying few moments. Okay. Needing to take control of what happened you took a few deep breaths. You had been taken by people who were clearly comfortable with and capable of murder. That wasn’t good. The headache was making it hard to think but you could get that far. 

Your work would notice you never came back. When they couldn’t get a hold of you they’d call someone. Then, when you never turned up, the police would be called. They might even know that you had been taken by now. And they would look for you and you’d be home. All you needed to do was survive for a bit longer and then you could go home. Cursing slightly you tried opening your eyes again. The light was still blinding but it was much better than before. 

The room you were in wasn’t large but it wasn’t small either. Pretty average and almost looked like a showhome. The bed had plain white linen, which you were laying on, and the walls were decorated in hand-drawn pictures in photo frames. There was a chest of drawers beside the only door that, presumably, lead out. There was also a window above the bed that you desperately wanted to look out of but couldn’t twist around. 

You tried pulling on the restraints, straining your head to see that they were actually the kinky-fluffy handcuffs. They were strong though, seeing as you couldn’t get your hands down. After one particularly big pull, the headboard snapped back, banging against the wall and causing the sound to echo around the room. Wincing, you tried to look you were asleep again. One thing you didn’t want were those men coming back in right now. But, because you had the worst luck today, the door opened and someone walked in. 

They came right beside the bed, sighing. “I know you’re awake,” he said softly. You didn’t move. “Here, I have some water for you.”

Peaking your eye open you saw a water bottle being held towards you. Your throat suddenly felt extremely dry, like sandpaper had been rubbing against it for hours, so you opened your eyes all the way and took a drink. The man held your head up so you could take small sips, which was as embarrassing as it was helpful. The idea that it could be posioned or anything like that didn’t even cross your mind until afterwards. You were just so thirsty. 

“Do you need anything?” He asked when you had finished.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright,” he said. Finally, you looked up at him. Blondie. It wasn’t like you could deny he was attractive. He was clearly built, his shirt dangerously stressed across his chest and arms, his face looked kind - even considering the circumstances - and his eyes were so piercing blue it was almost incredible to look at. But, really, fuck this guy. “I’m Steve by the way.”

You didn’t answer and he nodded, having the balls to actually look sad. “I am sorry about all this. We couldn’t just let you go after what you saw. When Bucky gets back we’ll figure out what to do with you.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, your throat was dry and your voice hoarse. It didn’t help that it broke with emotion as well. 

Steve shook his head, but it wasn’t like you were inclined to believe him. “No, we won’t. We don’t -” he hesitated “-kill people who don’t deserve it.” Looking away you made it clear you weren’t going to talk to him anymore. These people were insane. Talking so casually about killing people just because they ‘deserved’ it. Steve sighed but stood up anyway. “I am sorry that this happened.”

“Fuck you.”

~*~

The next time the door opened both men walked in. Steve and - what had he said? - Bucky. 

Bucky came over and undid one of the handcuffs, and acting on your first impulse you wound back and slapped him across his cheek. His head, annoyingly, didn’t move and he didn’t even look hurt. Nor did he look angry. It wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had. If you wanted to stay alive you should probably not anger the men but you were just so pissed. It was bad enough they had taken you but it was even more annoying that they looked so calm about it all. 

“Alright,” he nodded. “Yeah.”

“I hate you both,” you replied. While Bucky undid the other handcuff Steve handed you a plate of food. “What? Is it posioned?”

Shaking his head, Steve replied, “I told you, we’re not going to kill you.”

“Why should I believe that?”

“I guess you can’t,” Bucky nodded. “You just have to trust it.”

You poked at the food. They had given you a fork but you doubted you could over power both of them at the same time. Bucky was just as buff as Steve. So you scooped up some of the rice and ate it. Only now realising that you were actually hungry. “How long have I been here?” You asked after a few bites. Steve and Bucky looked at each for a moment before Steve answered.

“Just over a day.”

“A day,” you echoed. They nodded, not meeting your eye. “I want to go home.” 

“I know,” Steve nodded. “We can’t just let you go. You’d go straight to the police and tell them everything. And we just can’t have that happen.”

Stabbing at the food you pouted to yourself. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll say I was blindfolded the entire time and I don’t know who took me.”

“And you’ll be okay with yourself after that?” Bucky asked. 

“I-”

He nodded, seeming to expect your confusion and hesitance to answer. Steve rubbed at his chin, “what other option is there? We’re not going to kill her!”

“Are you a bad person?” Bucky asked you. You frowned in confusion but shook your head, you didn’t think so anyway. “Homophobic? Racist? Anything like that?” You continued to shake your head. “And you work at a daycare?” He asked, you nodded, cringing when you realised they would have had to look you up to find that out. “And you care about the kids there?” You nodded, openly glaring at him because if he was trying to get that they would hurt the kids you would stab him with the fork. He shook his head, “we don’t kill anyone without justification.” 

“That’s what Steve said,” you muttered. “So what did that man do? How’d he piss you off?”

“Pedophile,” Steve replied.

Eyes widening you were stunned. “Oh.” 

“Justified,” Bucky said. Not wanting to admit that you agreed you stayed silent. Your silence speaking louder than you could have. “Look, we don’t have to discuss that now.”

“I want to go home.” Steve looked down at his lap and Bucky looked over your head. “I want to go home.”

“You will,” Steve replied quietly. 

Bucky nodded, “we just need to figure out - figure out how,” he got one of the handcuffs and tied your wrist back to the headboard. You didn’t fight it off, seeing no point. You’d rather not get hurt because you were being stupid with these two men. Once your wrist was tied back up they both left, leaving you with a bottle of water and nothing else. When the door closed softly you smiled to yourself. A paperclip had been on the floor of the daycare and you had picked it up, putting it in your pocket. Reaching your free hand down your smile widened when you felt the metal. 

It was bright green but it would work. Quickly bending it to be a straight line you ended up fiddling with the handcuff lock for sometime before you heard the tell-tale click. The handcuff fell down beside your side and you grinned at it, almost mockingly. Repocketing the paper clip you slid off the bed, a very long process if you were being honest. Your legs felt like jelly and every movement felt like a spike to the head. Drowning the rest of the water took most of the pressure off but you still had to lean against the wall as you moved out of the room. By the time you were at the door the headache was basically gone. Which was definitely a nice feeling to have. 

Before you opened the door you looked out the window above the bed. It was long, taking up almost all the wall, and only showed trees. A lot of trees. When you opened the door you couldn’t help wincing when it creaked but nothing came of it so you assumed they hadn’t heard anything. Outside of the room was a hallway, two other doors on your side and big windows on the other, showing the coast. The house was basically on the beach, waves crashing not far away. At one end of the hallway was a door and the other end had a large arch that led to a kitchen, where quiet voices were coming from. 

The door at the end of the hall lead to a garage. There was no car inside but there was an entire wall of tools, you didn’t want to think what they were used for. There was a switch beside the door that you tried, opening the garage door would open. No such luck. A light turned on but nothing else happened. Turning it off you pouted before moving back into the hallway. The door next to yours lead to a basic bathroom and the other door led to another bedroom. This one much more personal, pictures of your captors on the drawers. It didn’t help in anyway other than now you knew they were together. Like, romantically together. 

A long sigh led you to the arch. Hiding behind it you strained to hear what was being said in the next room. “We can’t, Steve,” Bucky said. “I know you want to, I want to as well believe me, but we can’t do that.”

“What other option do we have?”

“I’m not letting you go to prison or something,” Bucky said his tone turning harsh. 

“I don’t want you to go either. But what can she tell them?”

“A description. Our names.” 

What sounded like some movement before Steve continued. “They already have basic descriptions of us. What else can she add?” 

“It’s like you want to go to prison.”

“I don’t like the idea of her being stuck here,” Steve replied. Your nodded to yourself, neither did you. Going home seemed like a great idea. “Bucky, you can’t want her to stay here.”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. Sure, you didn’t want to be here either but they didn’t have to be rude about it. It wasn’t your fault that they had kidnapped you. Bucky sighed, breaking you out of the strange train of thought you had landed on. “No, I don’t.” More movement. “Turn it up Stevie.”

The news, you guessed, was turned up. Your own name coming up as they talked about your disappearance and how it had been connected to the murder. Apparently someone had seen Steve carrying you out of the bathroom, and had told the police about you when they had arrived. You wanted to cry with happiness. They knew. They were looking for you. Your mood was dampened when the reporter went on to talk about how the police had no idea who did it or where you were. And if it was the work of the serial killers - it was, you had pieced that together fairly quickly - then they doubted they would ever find you. 

Covering your mouth with your hands you slide down the wall. Trying not to sob as you listened to them talk about you like you were already dead. You couldn't help sob when the chief of police said ‘we’re doing everything we can, but it is likely she’s already dead’. The sob was loud enough that you registered you needed to move because they had probably heard. But you couldn’t. You were frozen on the floor with horrifying words echoing around your head. 

When you took your hands away from your face and opened your eyes, both Steve and Bucky were crouching in front of you. Sadness in their eyes and apologies on their lips. You closed your eyes again and leant your head back against the wall. Trying to block everything out. Trying and failing.


	3. Chapter 3

You ended up sitting there for some time, hitting at the boys when they came to try and move you. After a while they figured it best to let you be. Steve told you to come and get dinner when you were ready before disappearing for the last time. Once your sobs stopped you just sat there. Listening. The news had been switched off and the radio had been switched on, soft jazz floating out to you. Bucky was in the kitchen - you had peered around to see what was happening - cooking what you guessed was the dinner but the idea of eating made you feel sick.

“Y/N? Do you want to come and eat?” Bucky called out. 

“I want to go home.”

“Come eat,” Steve replied.

“Your dining room isn’t my home.” 

“Come in when you’re ready,” Bucky said before lowering his volume so you couldn’t hear and spoke to Steve. You waited for some time, weighing up the options in front of you. You were hungry but you didn’t want to see or talk to the people in the other room. The food smelled really nice but for all you knew it was people. But, to be fair, they didn’t seem like the kind to eat people - and no, they also didn’t seem like people who would kill. Okay. Maybe you could go in and try it, if it was people you could leave again and if it wasn’t you could eat and then leave. No point in starving yourself just because you were being stubborn. 

Pushing yourself up you had to lean your weight on the wall because both your feet had gone dead from you sitting for a few hours. On the other side of the arch was the kitchen, dining room and living area. A tv was surrounded by books and the table looked old and rickety. The kitchen was in dire need of an update but was clearly functional. It didn’t look like the lair of a serial killer. Two serial killers. It looked like the before pictures of a home improvement magazine. 

Both of them looked up when you walked, not responding to your glare. You made your way to the table, where a meal was already sitting out for you. Poking at it you ignored the men, who took your silence as queue to continue talking about what they had been before. It was something about a housing development being built near them. They weren’t happy about it and you were still angry so you asked, “why not just kill them all?”

“Because,” Bucky answered, “we don’t kill people-”

“-who don’t deserve it. Yes. I know,” you interrupted sullenly, rolling your eyes like a petulant child. Bucky got up, you flinched expecting some kind of attack. A smacked cheek or something along those lines. Steve frowned at the movement and you were pleasantly surprised to see a glass of water in front of you. “How long am I going to be here for?” You asked after taking a sip. 

“A while,” Steve muttered looking at his plate. “I’d guess.”

“Great. That’s great.”

Bucky took his own sip before speaking. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah. This is fine. This is what I call fine. Being kidnapped by serial killers. Fine.”

“Wrong wording.”

“Really?” You muttered. “You know what? Alright, I’m going to be here for a while. So I’d like to get to know you both a little better seeing as I only know your names and you seem to know a bit about me. Because you’re creeps.” 

Steve nodded, “alright. We only know what was on your twitter account. What do you want to know?”

“Why do you kill people would be a good start.”

“Heavy material for the first date,” Bucky replied. “But, interesting discussion topic so I’ll allow it. We kill people because they deserve it and no one else wants to admit that. Nothing gets done unless you do it yourself.”

“I think that’s something crazy people say to justify themselves.”

“If we were crazy you’d be dead.”

Coughing on his drink, Steve waved his hand and tried to breathe again, “why don’t we change the subject at hand? This is a bit heavy for dinner, as Bucky said.”

“So do you guys have real people jobs or, like, are you hit men?”

“Being a hit man sounds great because I could charge lots,” Bucky said. 

Steve shook his head “but no. We have real people jobs. We own a mechanic shop on the main road.”

“And do you think hit men aren’t real people?” Bucky asked, pointing his fork at you with a grin. 

“I - what?”

“You said real people jobs or being hit men, therefore -”

You interrupted him with a laugh, completely missing the way they looked at you when you did so, “I do think they’re real. Wrong wording I guess.”

“Guess so.”

“You’re both weird,” Steve replied. 

Bucky looked mock offended and you rolled your eyes. Steve’s expression didn’t change, clearly he was sticking to his guns on this subject. One side of you, thought it was odd that you were being compared to a murder and the other side of you didn’t really care. He was joking as he said it. Which meant you were happy to joke with a serial killer. Your morals were all out of whack. You put it down to stress and tried not to think about it. “Oh, another heavy question. Are you guys ever scared the other one is going to murder you in your sleep?” 

“What the fuck Y/N?” Bucky asked, genuinely shocked at the question. “No.”

“Why would we be?” Steve asked.

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

Steve pursed his lips and Bucky seemed to actually consider the question. “I guess,” Steve finally answered, “we love each other. We have done since we were kids, we trust each other.” A pause. “You can trust us as well, truly.” 

“Well, I’m not dead yet, right?” 

“And you’re not going to be,” Bucky continued. “At least, not for a while. I’m sure you will die at one point. Not because of us though.”

“You can stop now.”

“Thanks.” 

Laughing, you shook your head and continued eating. Slightly put off at the ease you felt around these men but also happy enough to ignore it right now. When you were trying to fall asleep all these feelings would come out full force, along with the guilt most likely. You would deal with it all then, and not at the dinner table where you had laughed way more than you thought you would when you had first sat down. 

Once everyone had finished eating you found yourself sitting on the sofa while Bucky and Steve cleaned the kitchen. The music had been switched for some run of the mill, made for TV movies. Something about a mailman finding love but to be honest, you were much more interested in watching Bucky and Steve. It was strange, seeing them like this. Bucky splashed water onto Steve, who flicked him with the tea-towel in hand. The two of them were actual killers, murderers, who had kidnapped you. And yet you couldn’t help but find them a little charming. 

It was also strange to see just how much they loved each other. Killers always came with this idea that they were unlovable, that they wouldn’t love even if someone loved them. Yet, there they were. Laughing, stealing kisses, annoying each other and acting like any other couple you knew or could imagine. It was so domestic. So normal. That it tripped you out slightly, seeing them like that. Because it completely messed up your idea on how they would act. 

When they were finished they ended up sitting with you. They took the couch while you moved to the armchair. As much fun as it was to watch them, you weren’t about to sit with them. The movie, which you were now watching just so you didn’t stare at Bucky or Steve, ended on a happy note. The mailman got the girl and got the band back together, ending up with the perfect life. It was a terrible movie but you still found yourself feeling a little jealous of the characters. They got the happy ending while you were stuck god knows where with two (really) attractive serial killers. 

That last thought was the one that got you. Because yes, they were charming and kind of funny and sweeter than you would thought they would be. But you could put that down to carefully created characters. Personas they put on to make it easier to kill. It was explainable in a way that kind of made sense. Serial killers, a lot of the time, were charismatic so people trusted them, right? But finding them attractive was something entirely different. Charismatic people can act to get you to like them. Attractiveness, however, was a personal thing. You had looked at them - knowing full well who they were - and decided that they looked good. 

Trying to lessen the blow you reasoned that sometimes people were just attractive. And anyone would be able to see that. And this was one of those times. They were just good looking. Because they were.

The credits stopped rolling and another movie came on. This one started with a warning about sensitive content. Quickly deciding to forget about the internal crisis going on inside your head you turned to the screen. All your focus and attention going to the movie. The first shot, which really got your attention, was a half-naked lady running through the forest with a man carrying a large bag following her. She tripped - because of course she did - and he caught up, opening the bag and producing a head, which looked like it was from the dollar store. She screamed and the screen cut to black before going to a college campus. 

It got weirder from there, the main character was a student who was sleeping with not one but two of her professors and thought she was being stalked. Very quickly the plot changed from a thriller to a cheesy and cliche slasher movie, but somehow worse than the ones made in the ‘80s. The three of you clearly weren’t enjoying the movie but you couldn’t change it, way too invested in the terrible plot and bad characters. When the killer was chasing a random couple through a marine, laughing crazily, Bucky finally snapped. “That’s ridiculous!”

“This is where it gets ridiculous?” You asked, “he just killed someone with a pencil when he had a knife on his hip!” 

“Yeah, he has a flare for dramatics. It’s dumb because you don’t want to be loud when you’re chasing people down.” 

“Oh my god. You two are literally him.”

Steve looked offended, “uh. No. We don’t wear baby masks when we kill.”

“That’s the only difference.” 

“No, it’s not,” Bucky muttered. 

“Wait, question,” you said and Steve paused the TV. “If you were him how would you do this?”

Bucky shrugged, “I wouldn’t wear the mask. Or be loud. Or do this.” 

“Wow, thanks for the very detailed and helpful answer there.”

“A marina is a good place to hide a body,” Steve said. “If you didn’t want it to be found.”

“But because you’re attention whores you want them to be found?”

“We’re not attention whores,” Bucky said at the same time as Steve said: “Bucky’s the attention whore.” The two of them started arguing their point for a bit, both bringing up examples and evidence as to why they were right. And even though they were arguing over murder it was entertaining to watch. You froze up as you thought about it like that, they didn’t seem to notice - still arguing - but you were suddenly in shock.

Okay. You found these two to be charming (maybe that was fake) and attractive (most people would), they were funny (not your fault they could make you laugh) and easy to talk to (again, could be fake). All these things and all these reasons why it wasn’t good and yet you couldn’t talk yourself out of feeling guilty for it. Perhaps it was because you knew, deep deep down, that it wasn’t those reasons. There was no other reason than they were funny and handsome and kind of sweet. And that terrified you. 

“Doll,” Bucky said with a smile. “Care to weigh in?”

“I wasn’t listening.”

“Which is better, knife or gun?”

“Haven’t used either,” you replied grinning. And for a very brief, but very real, moment you were happy. And that was the worst part of all.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning you woke up in your room to sunlight on your face. Which was extremely odd seeing as you had closed the blinds the night before. Groaning, you covered your face with your hands and tried to go back to sleep. Being kidnapped was tiring, alright, you wanted to lie in. Someone in the room laughed and pulled the blanket off you. You had a few options on how to proceed but you took the one that seemed nicest - staying exactly where you were and trying to fall back asleep. The three had stayed up late watching bad horrors, the idea of getting up now hurt. 

He laughed again, poking at your side. “Bucky, stop annoying her.”

So it was Bucky who was doing the poking. Not surprising. And it seemed like Steve was standing by the door. Although you weren’t ready to look up so that wasn’t a one hundred per cent guarantee. The poking didn’t stop so you used one hand to swat at Bucky and the other to keep the sun off your face. You got him once, hitting his wrist which resulted in both of you cursing in mild pain. “Leave me alone.”

“We have to go to work. We’re letting you know.”

“I don’t care.”

“We’ll see tonight,” Steve said as the poking stopped and Bucky moved away. “Help yourself to anything.”

“I will.” 

They left then, the garage door opening and closing behind them. Once you were sure they were gone you got up. There were a few things you wanted to do, number one was escape, but showering also seemed like a really good idea. You hadn’t been able to in a while, and it wasn’t like they were going to be quick. Jumping out of the bed you decided that a quick shower would be fine. And maybe some food as well. 

By the time you were done with all that it had just gone nine thirty and you were ready to leave. The front door was locked, as was the garage door and the backdoor. All the windows were locked as well. And you couldn’t find a key anywhere. You searched all over the house - every drawer and shelf was looked over and there were no keys anywhere. Just before eleven, you decided it wasn’t worth it and decided to try and break a window. The best option was the one in the kitchen, it was your size and was easily accessible. First, you tried to break the lock with a mallet you found, then picking the lock with a knife, then smashing the glass with the mallet. 

Nothing was working until you smashed on it again and the entire thing shattered around you. Yelping, you tried to cover your face from the shards of glass, succeeding a little seeing as only your arms got cut. It wasn’t that bad and you pressed on, having wasted enough time already. Trying to contain your laughter as you stepped out onto the grass was hard, containing your happiness at being free was even harder. 

The next problem was that you had no idea where you were. The road looked the same when you turned left and right. No signs of life anywhere. On one side was the ocean and a sandy beach and the other side was dense forest. Figuring the best thing you could do would be to head on down the road and hope to find another a house or car. Anything really. It wasn’t like the road could just go nowhere. They had to have come from somewhere. 

As you walked you had plenty of time to ponder your circumstances. While the majority of you was happy that you were out and walking to freedom, a little bit of you was sad. The killers had an effect on you. It was just that the night before had been the most fun you had had in a while, which in itself was sad but whatever. It wasn’t like you were being held hostage when you had spent time with them. It was much more equal than that like you had been invented over. Just like regular old friends. The three of you had stayed up late, to the early hours of the morning, getting to know each other, joking with each. 

Justifying being happy was easy. Justifying why you wanted to justify being happy was not. 

Your existential crisis was soon dropped, however, when you heard a car coming up behind you. Almost sobbing in relief you flagged them down. The car pulled over to the side and the passenger window was rolled down. As it pulled over you couldn’t help frowning a little bit, something about the car was familiar. Sitting inside was a couple, man and women, the women had fiery red hair cut short and curly and the man had hearing aids in. 

“Thank you,” you said as soon as you could. “I need to get to the nearest town. I’ve been kidnapped and held for the last few days.” 

“Oh, honey,” the women said with an almost predatory smile. She didn’t look all that friendly like she was eyeing you up for a meal, but she was all you had. “Hop in.”

You did as you were told, climbing into the back of the car. The man in the driver's seat followed your every move with his eyes. It was rather unsettling but you managed to ignore it. There was a dark stain on the back of the passenger seat that looked almost like a handprint. “Thank you so much,” you said again as you put your seatbelt on, frowning when it locked into place meaning you couldn’t move. 

“You’re welcome,” she said. The car went forward for a bit before he turned it around, heading back in the direction you had just come. At your confused look the lady smiled through the rearview mirror. “The nearest town is back the way you came. Nothing’s out here for miles.” 

“Where am I?” You asked as you drove down the road. 

“What do you mean?” She replied with her own question, frowning as if you had asked something stupid.

“I don’t know where I am.”

She smiled at you as you would smile at a child. “You’re in our car. Lucky girl.”

The rest of the drive was in silence, which was great seeing as you doubted you could handle a conversation at that moment. Both of them made you uncomfortable, they weren’t quite right but you couldn’t put your finger on it. The car turned a corner and suddenly their house was right in front of you. As you got closer to the house you became more and tenser. The lady smiled at you again. And then she pulled into the driveway.

Steve and Bucky were standing in their driveway, watching the car pulling in. The redhead smiled at you, turning around to face you this time. The smile was anything but kind. You begged them to turn around, to take you away, but they just laughed. Instead, you started fumbling with your seatbelt as they parked the car beside the house. The seat belt wasn’t coming off no matter how much you tried. It just didn’t work. Steve reached into the car and nodded at the male, who pressed a button and your seatbelt clicked open. Freeing you. He then grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the car and holding you against his side. “Thank you, guys.”

The lady patted your check, smiling like she had done when she picked you up. “Control your own toy, boys.”

“Are you staying for lunch?” Bucky asked.

“Nah,” the man said. “We haven’t played in ages. We’re going to go and find some playthings.” 

When the other couple drove off was when the panic set in. What would Steve and Bucky do now that they had you again? After you had been bad. Would they see this is as justifiable for a killing? You were limp as they dragged you into the house. Your legs were shaking and your head was spinning. Terrifying images of your own death swarmed your vision and you all but collapsed, Steve, helping you stand before taking you over to the sofa and sitting you down. 

“Look,” Steve said with a sigh. “I get why you wanted to run. Okay? I do understand that you don’t want to be here. But, but you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Are you going to kill me now?” You muttered, “because if you are spare me the lecture.” 

“We’re not going to kill you.”

“How did you know I was gone?”

Bucky sat down on the armchair opposite you. “We sent Nat and Clint over to see how you were when we couldn’t get away from lunch like we hoped. When they got here and you were gone they called us. They said the kitchen window was broken and you were gone so they were going to go looking for you. There’s one road and they didn’t see you on their way in so it’s easy to guess which way you went.”

“They’re your crazy friends.”

“I guess,” Steve muttered. “They participate in this as well.”

“This being killing people. I want to go to sleep, I’m tired.” 

“Do you want food first?” Bucky asked. You shook your head, very nearly ready to cry. He seemed to see that as well, seeing as he smiled softly and nodded. “Sure, doll, whatever you want.” 

~*~

They didn’t leave you again that day. You could tell because every so often one of them would walk by your door, stop, and then move along. You didn’t know if you should feel happy or upset that they didn’t come into the room. For a few hours, you just lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling and going over what had just happened. Blaming yourself for not going faster. For wasting time in the morning. For getting in the car with the redhead even when it seemed like you shouldn’t do and she seemed even more dangerous than the men who had taken you. 

“Doll?” Bucky finally said as the sun was setting. He hadn’t come into the room, he just stood outside after knocking once. “Come get some food.”

“I’m starving myself to death so you don’t have to deal with me.”

“Y/N,” Steve said with a sigh. What right did he have to sigh? After he had caused this whole problem. 

You threw one of your pillows at the door. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to come out and I don’t want to see you. I’m doing you a favour right now.”

“You’re acting like a teenager,” Bucky said barely loud enough for you to hear.

“You kidnapped me. I’m allowed to behave however I want.” 

It seemed like they had left because they didn’t answer for a while. You couldn’t explain why the idea of them leaving you alone made you so sad. It shouldn’t have and you did feel a little dirty because of it. But at the same time, it was just a feeling, and you were sad and lonely and scared so that could be a reason for wanting the comfort. Then another sigh was heard and you had to stop yourself from smiling just because they hadn’t left you alone. It was all too much. And maybe all you wanted to do was go back out there and hang out with them like you had done the night before because it was fun.

And maybe you did that. 

You climbed off the bed and opened the door, fresh tears coming to your eyes when you saw the men. Seeking comfort in their embraces when they pulled you in. Standing there, in the doorway of the room you had been forced into, you hugged them. You stood in between them and cried on Steve’s chest as Bucy rubbed your back and Steve held you close. You closed your eyes when Bucky hugged you from behind so he was also hugging Steve and you let them hug you. 

And it was all you wanted.

Then you followed them into the kitchen and ate the soup with them, laughing as Bucky told you stories of his and Steve’s childhood. The antics they got up to when they were much younger and not a lot younger. You even added a few details from your own life when the time called for it. You followed them into the living with a bowl of ice cream in your hands and watched some strange reality TV show, judging the people with the people who had taken you but that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that Carly was sleeping with Ray and that you were having a fun time. A ghost movie was put on and you ended up with your legs on Bucky’s lap and sharing a blanket with Steve because you were leaning on his chest.

And you were happy to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my 18th birthday today!!


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning you woke up to the smell of breakfast. Getting out of bed you put some of Steve’s clothes on and headed towards to the kitchen. Bucky stood by the oven, a few plates of food surrounding him. Even better, he was shirtless. A very nice sight to see, even in your state. He turned around, smiling at you and placing a plate of pancakes on the dining room table. “Where’s Steve?” You asked as you made your way to sit down. 

“Work, do you like bacon?”

You gave your answer before continuing with, “so you’re on babysitting duty?”

“It’s either me or Nat and Clint, and they just got a new toy.”

“The both of you are sick,” you muttered. You didn’t really mean to start anything but you felt bad when you pretended nothing was wrong. He shrugged and sat down, pushing an empty plate to you and gesturing to the food on the table. You took some of the food, they were good cooks no doubt and ate it without much worry. Which, to be fair, probably wasn’t the best idea seeing as they were definitely crazy and could definitely kill you without a moment's notice. But you did, and it was really good, and it was hard to care as you stuffed yourself of pancakes and fruit. 

Bucky took his own plate, leaving a whole heap of leftovers that he said Steve could have for lunch. For a while it was just the two of you eating in silence, which you were content with in all honesty. You were still half asleep and talking seemed like to much work. The silence, however, wasn’t uncomfortable. Quite the opposite actually. In that moment you were happy to be there - which was a trip to think about at first but in the end you could think whatever you wanted and it was alright to do so. It was almost domestic, the two of you eating together at the table, birds chirping in the wood behind you, waves crashing in front of you and sunlight streaming in the window. 

So, yeah, not to bad. For a brief moment you wished Steve was there with you. That was harder to justify in your own mind but it was the truth. Steve being with you and Bucky in that moment would have made the entire thing better. In a desperate attempt to rationalize that thought process you tried to pretend that it was just because he was attractive and having two attractive men was better than one. But you couldn’t lie to yourself like that. You wanted him there. You actively wanted one of your kidnappers to be with you because you actually liked their presence. 

“What do you want to do?” Bucky asked after a few moments of eating, quickly adding: “that isn’t going home.” Shrugging, you took another pancake. “We could go to the beach or into the forest, they’re nice.”

“So you can kill me and dump the body.”

He shook his head, “doll, we’re not going to kill you.”

“Fine, then I’d like to go to the beach. But if you dump me in the ocean I will come back to haunt you. Promise.” 

“Fair enough.”

~*~

A storm was rolling in, you could see it on the horizon. So by the time you and Bucky were heading to the beach the sky was grey and the waves were big. It was windy as well, almost to the point of blowing you over and it was cold. Very, very, cold, so you had one of Steve’s jackets pulled tight around you. Blocking out the wind and providing a little bit of heat that made the walk bearable. And you may have stood closer to Bucky but you needed to, just to because he was really warm. No other reason. 

Just after you left the house, Bucky found a large stick and proceeded to carry it with him like a walking stick as you made your way down the beach. You couldn’t help but find it a little bit charming, even if it was a bit dorkish. It was kind of cute. Human. The two of you walked in mainly silence, you had to shout to hear each other so it was more practical than anything. 

At one point the wind died down enough for a conversation, which leads to you hearing a story from when they were younger - and by younger (as you found out during the story) was only a few years ago and not when they were children like you had guessed. Bucky was an animated storyteller, drawing you in with hand gestures and over exaggerated dialogue. “I swear to god! He goes up to the bouncer, swaying he’s so drunk and demands to be let back into the bar. It was the dumbest but also the funniest thing I had seen in so long.”

“What did you do?” You asked, trying to control your giggles at the image in your mind.

“Grabbed Steve and threw him over my shoulder. He was not happy,” Bucky replied, suddenly very somber in tone. His eyes still alight with happiness. You couldn’t stop the laughter after that. The idea of Bucky carrying a very drunk Steve down the road as Steve yelled and complained was to much. “Alright, what about you? Funniest memory,” Bucky asked once you had calmed down.

There was a small part of you that wanted to tell him to fuck off, that he didn’t get to hear your stories. But that side of you was so small it was barely there. So you dived in, relaying the first thing that came to your head as you walked. About halfway through it colder still so you both decided to head back towards the house. After you had finished your tale Bucky started another one, and then you, and then him. Until you made it back to the house the both of you shared stories of past. The laughter never dried up and you felt as safe as you could. And very happy. 

Back at the house, Steve was sitting in the kitchen, eating leftovers like Bucky said he would be doing. When you came through the door he looked up, offering up some food. Both you and Bucky took a cold pancake. “Where did you two go?”

“Beach,” Bucky replied. 

“Storm’s coming in,” Steve said. “Towns closing up in preparation.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, hopping up to sit on the kitchen bench, Bucky leaning against it beside you. 

Steve started packing up the food he hadn’t eaten, “the big storms usually break a few windows and cut off the power. The town has to prepare for it each time so that it can reduce damage.”

“Do we have to do anything?”

“Border up all the windows, get some more firewood, get out supplies like blankets, food and water,” Bucky answered. “Nothing major.”

“Speaking of, I’m going to go and get some wood before it gets wet. Y/N, want to come with me?”

Jumping off the bench you shrugged, “go into the creepy dark forest with a serial killer carrying an axe? Sounds good.” 

“Don’t kill her,” Bucky said as Steve rolled his eyes, “she’ll come back to haunt us.”

“That’s true.”

Grabbing another coat - seeing as you were wearing his - Steve nodded solemnly, promising not to kill you. Bucky kissed both yours and Steve’s cheek as you walked out the door, which was both scary and lovely. And the only reason it was scary was because it was lovely, which scared you. So, a complicated relationship with the kiss. Seeing as you never wanted it to happen again but was fully prepared to run back into the kitchen so he could do it again. 

The woods itself started across the road from Bucky and Steve’s house. Thoughts of running away from Steve didn’t even cross your mind, just like on the beach. It wasn’t something considered even for a moment. You and Steve headed over, no cars in sight, and into the forest. With the gray skies the forest had a horror-movie vibe to it. It wasn’t damp yet but you could feel the rain the air, and only a few meters beyond the first trees it was dark enough that it was hard to see. You stepped closer to Steve, your hands touching.

“Are you going to chop down a whole tree?” You asked, “because you look like that’s something you do for fun but I am not helping you carry it back.” 

“No, I’m not getting an entire tree. But I think that was a compliment-”

“-It was-”

“-So thank you.” 

You shrugged, “sure you kidnapped me but you’re hot.”

“Well, you’re very attractive as well.”

“Thanks,” you said as Steve came to a stop beside an already chopped up tree. The thought that he found you attractive was something you didn’t know you had wanted. It caused something warm to flourish in your chest, something you hadn’t felt before. Steve told you to step back and then began swinging. And damn if you thought he was attractive before it was nothing compared to this. The way his body moved with the axe was down right sinful. 

“Bucky told me about the time you tried to chop a tree and nearly broke your wrist.”

Steve scoffed, stopping for a moment to wipe at his forehead, “I didn’t nearly break my wrist. I almost sprained it, he loves exaggerating what happened.” 

“He also told me that you were a little kid.”

“Sure, I wasn’t exactly big for my age.”

“He said you were a dumbass.”

“That’s him projecting.”

You laughed, “oh?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, getting back to chopping. It only took him a few minutes to have a couple of thick branches under his arm. But by then the sky was a lot darker and the air a fiar bit damper. It was almost static as you walked back, Steve commenting it would probably be a thunder and lightning storm. As you hit the road the rain started, only lightly luckily. Just enough so you could feel it on your skin. Already the windows of the front of the house had boards screwed to the outside, Bucky worked fast. “Go on inside, I’ll meet you there.”

Doing as he said you made your way to the front door where Bucky was standing while Steve headed around the house. “You’re wet,” Bucky said, taking off your coat.

“Thanks. I had no idea.”

“Ha. Ha,” Bucky muttered. “You suck. Come in, I made hot chocolate.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “it’s cold.”

The two of you went into the kitchen, each taking a mug from the bench, before moving to the living room. When you sat down on the sofa the back door opened and Steve came in, carrying a pile of cut up wood. He dumped it by the fireplace before going to get his own mug and then came and sat with you and Bucky. The news was on the TV, the storm the major headline. It was going to be a big one, bigger than normal. Bucky grumbled under his breath about mother nature annoying him before standing and walking out.

“He’s going to go and fill up some more containers with water,” Steve said at your confused look, “in case the water gets cut off.”

“Right.” 

“Your window’s been bordered up so you don’t have to worry about glass tonight but it might get cold. Power is usually cut off fast which means we end up with no heating and because we’re right on the beach it’s colder than inland. We’ll find you some more blankets and warm clothes but, just so you know, it’s not nice.”

Nodding, you took another sip of your drink. Already it was getting colder, and the heating was on now. Hopefully, the fireplace and a whole heap of blankets would help when the time came.

“Stevie,” Bucky yelled out from the kitchen, “I pulled the blankets down. They’re on our bed.” 

“Be right back,” Steve said before leaving the room. The news caught your attention when you saw your own face on the screen. You were only on screen for a few moments, and the only news was that there was nothing new to report. No one knew anything about you, where you were or who had you. It even seemed like the police thought you were dead, like they had written you off already. The report was hard to watch. Footsteps were heard and then the TV was turned off, Steve sitting right beside you, blankets forgotten on the floor by the door. When he sat down you moved closer, pressing against him and resting your head on his shoulder. Even that little bit of comfort was enough to make you feel better.


	6. Chapter 6

The storm hit hard. Wind started howling, trees hitting the house. Almost as soon as Bucky came back into the room the windows started shaking in their panes and the waves were getting stronger by the minute. They sounded like they were crashing onto the house. It became so loud that sometimes it was almost impossible to hear anything else. The news stayed on until the TV turned off, apparently, you were going to get the storm stronger than anywhere else. It didn’t take long for the power to cut, plunging the whole house into darkness. Bucky turned on a camping lantern and handed you a torch but it was still so dark, most of the room was just shadow. 

Steve got a fire going after that and only a few minutes later you were moving to sit in front of it, wrapped up in blankets and Bucky’s jumper. It didn’t provide much light but it was warm, well it was warmer than on the sofa. A smile graced your face when Steve and Bucky sat on either side of you, their own blankets wrapped around them. With the four of you sitting there it became a lot warmer a lot faster. Survival. That’s how you were justifying it this time, how you were justifying enjoying the feeling of them pressed up against you. 

Your thoughts wandered as you sat there. The news clipping of yourself was replaying in the back of your mind. Really, it wasn’t even the fact that you had been taken that was upsetting to you. It was because you had been written off so quickly. They wouldn’t even be looking for you soon, you were just another number that people would throw out in debates. Because how sad does your life have to be that no one cares anymore? A name people would forget by the end of the week because another person would get taken by someone worse. 

Well, to be fair, there weren’t many people worse than Steve and Bucky. Although no one knew their names they knew them. The facts. 58 kills in the last three years, all gruesome and no evidence left behind aside from their calling card - a star cut into the forehead. They were a local legend, a thing of myth in a lot of cases. Parents would tell their children to behave so that the Star Killers don’t get them. Although; “would you ever kill a child?”

“No?” Steve answered, both of them looking at you in confusion. You didn’t elaborate. 

So maybe they didn’t kill children if they were bad. But they did if the children grew up to be bad. The news hadn’t reported anything that suggested it was premeditated. Actually, most of the theories made them out to be random killers. Finding their new victims on a whim and following them to kill. Never had someone suggested they were stalking their prey beforehand. Bad people, maybe the worst, but the way Natasha had looked at you suggested they weren’t the biggest bad out there. 

But, to their credit, they were treating you well. Sure they had kidnapped you and you were definitely being held against your will, but they weren’t starving you and you weren’t keeping you in a dingy basement. So, it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Which isn’t the best way to start a relationship but hey, at least there weren’t rats here. Your torch flicked on and off a few times before remaining off - the batteries dead just before something banged and a cold draft came in. Steve sighed, got up, and walked out with his own torch. 

Bucky shifted slightly, your legs becoming closer, and your heart skipped a beat. There wasn’t even skin-on-skin, it was just their presence so close to you. “This,” you said to take your mind of the feeling of them on you, “is how I imagine being kidnapped.”

“What?”

“Cold, dark, creepy.”

“You have hot chocolate,” Bucky replied.

Nodding, you shrugged, “fancy kidnappers.”

“You’re the worst,” Bucky muttered.

“Am I your favourite abductee?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve scoffed a laugh as he walked back into the room, the cold draft already gone. “We haven’t abducted anyone else.”

“So I am.”

“I guess.”

“That means you’re also our least favourite,” Bucky pointed out. Both he and Steve laughed when you fake pouted and each pulled you closer to them. Which meant you were pulled in two different directions by two strong men but you did end up even closer to them, making your heart beat at a funny tempo for a long moment. You ignored that side effect of the strange three-way cuddle session and rested your head on Steve’s shoulder. Watching the fire dance across the wood instead of analyzing everything you did and felt. Enjoying your time cuddled up in front of the fire with them. That was much easier.

~~

Later that night you found yourself making your way to your room in torchlight. It was dark as anything in that hallway but you were absolutely about to fall asleep so you were going to go to bed. Hopefully, the large number of blankets Steve had piled on you would keep you warm, which was looking more and more unlikely as you continued to walk away from the fireplace and into the cold. Your room was even colder than the hallway, there wasn’t a draft, luckily, but it was still freezing. Like so cold that you couldn’t stop shivering and your toes were becoming numb for just standing there. 

You decided not to get a change. At least these clothes were a little warm and were super comfortable. So you slipped into bed, piling blankets over yourself. Even then it was freezing cold. Like, so cold you could hardly move your arms let alone your fingers because it felt like you were frozen in place in the bed. You tried tucking yourself in on yourself, tucking your arms under each and pulling your legs up so you were in a fetal position. Nothing was working. It was just so cold it felt like it was seeping into your bones. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke up as an icicle. Way too cold.

Another ten minutes in icy hell and you decided it wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth this torture. So you grabbed two of the blankets and headed back into the living room. The fire was still going but the boys were nowhere to be seen. You sat down in front of the fireplace and wrapped the blankets around yourself. The fire wasn’t doing as much as you had hoped it would but it was doing much more than your bedroom had done. Already you could actually move your fingers and toes.

A mug of something warm - it really didn’t matter what it was at this point - was thrust in front of you, Steve standing there with a small smile. You took the mug, sighing when the heat seeped into your hands. You were so desperate for something that you started holding the mug close to your chest to try and get yourself a little warmer. It worked a tiny bit. Steve sat down beside you, his own blanket around him and a mug in his hand. 

“Where’s Bucky?”

“Getting more firewood. What are you doing out here?”

“Too cold.”

Steve frowned. “Nor surprised. Our room was almost unbearable and there were two of us in the bed.”

“Why did you come in here then?”

“We weren’t tired and we both hate being cold. At least this room is a little bit warmer,” Steve replied and poked at the fire. The door the laundry opened and closed, a cold breeze rushing through causing you to shiver as it washed over you. Bucky grunted as he stepped closer, dropping a pile of wood beside the fire before collapsing next to you. Steve handed him a mug of hot chocolate and he slipped under your blankets. A few moments later another blanket was being draped over you and then Steve was under yours. 

Another log was placed on to the fire, causing the flames to grow for a few seconds. A burst of heat lapping at your skin. Once Bucky was tucked back in the blanket cocoon and had his mug in hand you said: “Tell me something. When and why did you first kill someone.” 

“That’s not something we usually share,” Bucky replied.

“Serial killer code or something?”

“No, just that it’s something that could get us arrested.”

“I’m not a cop.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. Steve shrugged, “we were walking down the street one night and this guy was following us yelling homophobic shit at us. We went down an alleyway and Bucky had a knife on him. One thing leads to another.”’

“How did you not get caught?” You asked. The fact that they were talking about murder so casually, and that you were to, didn’t even register. It was almost like a story instead of real life. Fiction over fact. 

“By the time they found him he was so gone that there was no evidence,” Steve replied. 

“It’s easier to not get caught if you don’t know the victims. If it’s random,” Bucky said. “They look at people the victim knew first.”

“So is there a serial killer network?”

Both of them laughed this time. “No,” Steve answered. “There isn’t.”

“What a shame.”

“I guess,” Bucky said.

“But you obviously meet the creeps who picked me up.”

Steve nodded, “Clint and Natasha. They found us, did more work than the cops I guess, asked around for us. They know a lot of other people that aren’t friendly with the law. And they have a lot more people that owe them favours.”

“So there is a serial killer network,” you replied. “If they were able to ask around.”

“Not really. More like an underground network, if anything,” Bucky replied.

You mock sighed, “how boring. So your creepy friends meet you and then what, you joined hands and killed together?”

“They’re good people,” Steve answered. 

“You have a weird version of good.”

“Maybe you do,” Bucky replied instantly. 

“Maybe I do.”

~*~

Later on, after about an hour of sitting in front of the fire, the three of you decided on bed. It wasn’t really a decision. All three of you were basically just falling asleep on the floor wrapped up in each other. Standing up you looked towards your bedroom with hatred, it was so cold in there and you were heading back. The fire was so warm but as soon as you stepped away the cold started seeping back in, warmth flooding out as quickly as it could.

The three of you started off towards the hallway, even in there was too cold to stand. In a strange turn of events you weren’t wishing for your bed or your house - which wouldn’t have been affected by the storm - you just wanted the storm to be done. For the sun to come back out as it had been before. You didn’t really want to leave the house. But that was a thought process for another day because it was too cold to think about something so deep. 

When you walked past their room they hesitated as you continued on. Whispered words that you ignored. Just as you reached your room, as you were placing your hand on the freezing metal handle, Bucky called out: “doll, why don’t you sleep in our room tonight?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “Your room is so cold and with the three of us in the bed, it’ll-”

“I am not sharing a bed with serial killers!” 

Bucky rolled his eyes as subtly as he could. “Doll it’s so cold.”

“You kidnapped me! K-I-D-N-A-P-P-E-D me!”

“Yes,” Steve replied. “And our bed is warmer than yours.”

“Kidnapped!”

“We’ve established that,” Bucky nodded. 

You threw your hands in the air, “you’re both insufferable.” 

“Are you coming?” Bucky asked as he pushed their door open. “I would recommend it.” 

“I-”

“Just to sleep,” Steve clarified. 

The thought of going into your own room wasn’t all that appealing. But, sleeping in the same bed as them wasn’t what you wanted to be doing either. For a drawn-out moment, you did wish for your own bed and home. You wished this wasn’t happening - any of it. However, wishes don’t work and you were still standing in the cold hallway with them looking at you expectantly when you finished wishing. And you had to make a choice. Really, it was a no-brainer but the moral side was still there, strong and very present in your dilemma. Your moral side was screaming but, in all honesty, the choices were limited and there was one that was the obvious choice. The better one. 

Dropping your hand from the handle you stepped towards them. They both smiled when you did, reaching their hands for you to take. And you did. And it was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all knew it was coming but here it is anyway


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait - life got hard for a while there.
> 
> But here you go! 
> 
> This is the most metaphorical thing I've ever written tbh.

Your dream started with you on the beach, a storm in the distance but steadily moving closer. The beach was familiar at best but you couldn’t place it. Those parts didn’t really matter because in the present the sun was shining down on you and the warm waves were lapping over your toes. With a content sigh, you relaxed further into the sand. The waves stayed small and the sun stayed glowing, the storm could wait for you. 

There was a noise to your left but you didn’t care to look to see what it was. Nothing seemed important as you relaxed in the sand. But, as it came closer your interest increased, so you turned to see both Bucky and Steve walking towards you. Shirts off, shoeless and pants hanging low on hips. They were holding hands, smiling at you and the sun glistened off them as the waves got a little bit bigger. Your ankles being covered by the water. 

They sat beside you, one on either side, all three of you looking out to the ocean. The storm has crossed the horizon now, you could see the rain hitting the ocean if you squinted, but still, that didn’t matter. Your boys were here. Both of them took your hand, Bucky taking your right and Steve your left. It was everything you could have asked for as you sat there, on the beach. Things were becoming a little clearer now, the beach you were on was the one they owned and the house and forest were behind you. For a moment you felt more relaxed, now knowing that you belonged where you sat, in between the boys.

And then you felt anxious. The storm was coming at it was going to ruin the house, ruin the beach. It was going to bring devastation and you didn’t think the house could be repaired from that kind of damage. How could it? With a storm that big looming so close. The water started to get colder and you wanted to stand, wanted to run into the house and try to save it before anything happened. You couldn’t move. 

Clouds covered the sky, golden sun turning to black nothing. You turned to Steve first, trying to get him to help, but instead, you felt a wintery chill settle over you. He was looking at you, facing you, but you couldn’t see his eyes. His entire face was covered in blood that was pouring from a large gash in his forehead. A scream caught in your throat and before you could blink Steve was being washed away by the sea. Bucky, when you turned to look to him, was no better. His gaze was slowly flicking between Steve laying on the waves unmoving and you. And his arm, his left arm, was gone. Like Steve, a wave came over him, taking him away and towards the rapidly approaching storm.

The scream left your throat as the third and final wave crashed over you. Pulling you away from the house still bathed in sunlight and towards the storm and heartache.

~*~

Waking up with a gasp it took you a few moments to place where you were. You weren’t at your house and you weren't in your room at their house. That’s as far as you got before Bucky woke up as well, cluing you into your location. You had slept in their room, in their bed, with them. Like, with them with them, based on the fact Steve had his arms wrapped around you and Bucky’s legs were wrapped up with yours. So not only had slept in their bed you had three-way spooned with them. Probably all night. 

The boys weren’t awake yet, even if Bucky seemed to be stirring, which gave you a small amount of time to reflect on the past few days. If a week ago, someone had told you that you would have enjoyed being kidnapped you’d thought they were crazy. But, even over this extremely short amount of time, you had grown fond of your captors. To the point where the idea that they had kidnapped you seemed far fetched. Not the truth. Stockholm Syndrome flicked through your mind but you ignored it. Surely what you were feeling wasn’t something so easily categorized. 

“You alright?” Bucky asked, his voice thick with sleep and making it impossibly sexier. 

“Bad dream.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” 

Steve started stirring just as thunder rolled in the distance. You pouted - the storm wasn’t over just yet. Steve’s arms tightened around you as he woke up more, Bucky going to hold his hands on your stomach. And, okay, you were in wrapped up in their arms and yeah they were serial killers but damn their arms were fine. If you closed off the rest of the world, if everything else disappeared, this was the perfect domestic moment. A far off storm, waves crashing nearby, sunshine pouring in, and cuddled right into each. Thoughts of the outside world were blocked from your mind as Bucky started playing with your hands that were resting just below Steves. 

After a few moments, Steve spoke, asking: “What do you want to do today?” 

“Nat text us,” Bucky replied. “Asked if we wanted to go with her and Clint this afternoon.”

“Who?”

“A house full of men that weren’t nice to some ladies.”

“Wait, are you talking about murder?” You asked, the idea absolutely crashing your perfect domestic moment. 

Bucky and Steve looked at each other uncomfortably over your head. They had the same thoughts as you - it had been such a perfect moment for them as well but now it had completely changed. The mood shifting from a sleepy haze to a tense silence. Neither of them answered you, they didn’t even look down at you. You asked them again, the same question. Steve sighed and nodded, you couldn’t see it but you felt the movement behind you. 

“So casual,” you whispered. “You - you - you’re talking about murder right now. I can’t believe this.”

“It’s not that bad,” Bucky replied.

“I want to go home.”

“I thought we were over that stage,” Steve sighed.

There was a small pause before Bucky said; “it’s not that bad, doll. Promise.”

You rolled your eyes. How could they lie here and plan a murder? Wrapped up in bed, cuddling each other and you. Planning a cold-blooded, first-degree murder. Nat and Clint seemed like the people to enjoy killing, to want to rip people apart just because they can, which didn’t seem like your Bucky or Steve. They didn’t seem like the kind to get messy, even if they’d look good if they did. Holy hell that was not a train of thought you wanted to continue going down. So if they were going to kill these men with Nat and Clint then it would probably be messy, gruesome. Nothing like a bullet to the back of the head. And sure the murder was against bad people who didn’t deserve to continue living but it wasn’t like it was their job to be judge, jury, and executioner for these men. The scariest part of it all was that you slowly started justifying it. 

The two of them were silent, waiting on you to say something. But how could you reply to that - out loud for that matter. Justifying internally was one thing, a glaring thing that you weren’t a hundred per cent happy with, but you didn’t think it was as bad as saying it was alright out loud. Out loud was final. Steve and Bucky would know what you were thinking and you couldn’t take it back. Even if you changed your mind they would know that there was a moment in time that you were okay with what they were doing. 

Honestly, there wasn’t much you could say to that. Even if you didn’t mind them knowing your innermost feelings. How do you reply when someone says they are planning on killing a house full of people? Tell them to enjoy themselves? Make sure they packed everything they needed? Try and convince them not to? You had never been told the etiquette of dealing with two serial killers who you were slowly (read: way to fast for your liking) developing a crush on. 

Crush. You had to stop yourself scoffing at yourself. You weren’t some school girl talking about a boy in your class. This wasn’t the playground. This was real life. Something that could easily turn into a life and death situation. Hell, it had been for a little bit before this moment. Crushing on these two didn’t seem very normal, imagining them covered in blood and not minding it seemed even more abnormal. Trying to rationalise it you thought back to college, there had been a paper on psych in your course and you had talked about loneliness and how it changed a person. Maybe that was it - you were lonely and needed comfort, which you saught with Steve and Bucky.

But, you knew that was bull. Seeking out comfort wouldn’t happen in the first week and you definitely wouldn’t be finding them attractive - handsome even. You wouldn’t be okay with who they are and more importantly what they do if you were just seeking out some human interaction because you were alone. There were many things you wouldn’t have done if this was something as harmless as wanting to talk to someone. No. This was something more than that and even you couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. 

They seemed to know what was happening in your head as they both pulled you a little bit closer. Even if the conversation would warrant pushing away. They knew that it wasn’t what you wanted, even after all that had happened. And you relished in their arms - happily laying in between them, going as far as to lay your head on Steve’s chest with a sigh and your eyes closed. You were at ease there, when it was the last place you should be happy. The last place you should feel safe. But you did, and that was that. 

Suddenly tired, you shook your head. Deep thinking always took it out off you and you really weren’t in the mood for more introspection and soul searching. “Are you going to go with Nat and Clint?”

“Not sure,” Bucky replied. “They really want us to. Said they needed us to help them.”

“Liars. They never need our help.”

Shrugging, Bucky answered, “probably want to get us out of the house or something.” 

“We can’t leave-” Steve cut himself off.

“No,” you said turning to look at him. “Please, continue to talk about me. I love it.” 

“Sorry, babe.”

Bucky pursed his lips, “we could bring you, doll.”

“No thanks.”

“You can stay in the car or something, but you can’t stay here and we’ll probably be going with them. And before you complain about having to come, this is your fault because you didn’t stay in the house last time we left.”

Glaring at Bucky, who had the decency to look a little sheepish, you replied with; “fuck you.”

“Doll.”

“You kidnapped me, of course, I’m going to try and run away from you!” 

It was Steve’s turn to sigh, “Y/N.”

“No. This is insane. I am not coming with you.” 

~*~

Famous last words. You were currently sitting in the back of their car, pouting, with your hands in fuzzy - sex - handcuffs. You didn’t even want to know why they had these. As soon as you had said your piece the boys had gotten up and started getting ready, nothing too suspicious - dark wash jeans and dark shirts - and then made you a really nice toasted sandwich for breakfast. The juice that went with it, however, wasn’t as nice. Seeing as they had drugged it. Just enough for you to be sluggish to fight them off so they could buckle you into the car. 

“Fuck you both, just in case I haven’t said it yet.”

“You’ve said it,” Bucky replied. “Many times.”

Not taking his eyes off the road, Steve also replied. “We’ve said sorry. And we are.”

“Don’t even drug me again.”

“Don’t be difficult then,” Bucky answered. At your half-glare-half-hurt look, he backtracked, looking upset himself. “Alright, sorry. That was uncalled for. We won’t drug you again and we shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Truly, sorry, doll.”

At his apology, all the anger left you, which was probably a very dangerous thing. You couldn’t stay angry at them for drugging you what else could you forgive? The murder of these men, perhaps? It was a scary thought process. But you still nodded at him, forgiving them for what they had done to you. You could pretend there were reasons for it, but really you just didn’t want to be angry at them anymore. It was tiring and kind of pointless. It had happened and, crazily, you trusted them not to do it again after Bucky’s apology.

As you came to forgive them the scenery outside your window changed from the motorway and industrial looking warehouses to the suburbs. You had ever been here but it looked exactly like any other suburb out there. After a few more minutes Steve pulled the car over behind one you recognised - Nat and Clints car. Crazy and Crazier. As soon as you parked Nat and Clint got out of their car, wearing all black, with hoods up and large sunglasses on their faces. 

Natasha’s gaze flicked to you and she raised an eyebrow. “You brought your toy?”

“She’s not our toy,” Steve replied. “And yes, we brought her.” 

Her expression didn’t change at Steve’s words but she nodded. “Alright, well your plaything can’t stay in the car. It’s too risky.”

“Nat,” Bucky sighed.

“No. She’s either in the house or we kill her right now.”

Bucky held her gaze for a few more moments before shrugging and turning to you, asking what you would like to do. “Uh, I’ll choose the house. Don’t really want to die.”

Clint, from behind Nat, laughed. “Hear that their toy doesn’t want to die.”

“She better behave then,” Natasha replied softly. Her grin going predatory and you would have given anything to be back at the beach house at that moment. “Come on you three, let’s go.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - Murder and semi-graphic violence.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked inside, your own large sunglasses covering your face and hands in plastic gloves. Steve, in the car, had explained just why these men deserved to die. You knew the reasoning beforehand but they had re-explained what they had done. They had really upped the idea that these men were bad people so you were kind of expecting a dungeon-ish looking house. A few heads on walls or girls chained up in corners. What you were not expecting was a normal looking house, a few dishes in the sink and a whole lot of beer cans in the trash, but nothing that screamed ‘evil’. Chuckling to yourself you released that the ‘evil’ decor was probably at Natasha and Clint’s house. 

Speaking softly, Clint pointed to the stairs. “They should all be sleeping right now. Big party last night.”

“Hungover then,” Steve muttered. 

“Maybe even a little bit drunk,” Clint nodded. “Each person can take a bedroom. Steve, you can take two.”

“I won’t take a bedroom,” Bucky said. He gestured to you, clearly thinking you wouldn’t see it. You did.

Clint sighed, “alright. Nat?”

“Awesome.”

There was a door slam and then someone walking around upstairs, heading towards the stairs. Bucky and Steve quietly pulled you into the living room while Nat and Clint hide around the back of the staircase. From where you were standing you could see the bottom of the stairs, so you got a clear view of Nat jumping very elegantly on the guy when he stepped onto the floor. He wasn’t expecting it so it took it a moment to fight back, but by the time he had started fighting Clint was pressing a cloth to his mouth. You winched, knowing the feeling. 

Steve pulled a chair from the dining room table to them and very quickly the man’s arms were bound with duct tape. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. A piece of cloth was shoved into his mouth as a gag and then Natasha stepped back. You couldn’t help but judge the man that was sitting in there - which was sick if you were being honest. He was about to die but you were judging him?. But you did. Slick hair and an outfit that screamed ‘rich family’. That, obviously, didn’t give them the right to kill him but it was the truth. 

A few moments later and Bucky lead you upstairs. Steve, Nat and Clint were following you but turned down a different path when you got to the top of the stairs. Just as he pulled you into an empty bedroom you heard a scream, and then a loud ‘what the fuck’ and then some grunting. It stopped when Bucky closed the door. He gently pushed you over to the bed, when the backs of your knees hit the edge, you sat down. Bucky did something with the window that you couldn’t see before pulling the blinds. When that was done he took off his glasses and knelt down in front of you. 

“Stay in here, alright?” Bucky said almost pleadingly. “Nat and Clint won’t hesitate to kill you if you decide to run. They already think we’re crazy for keeping you ‘round after your first escape attempt.”

“So it's stay in the murder house or die.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking apologetic.

It seemed, from his behaviour now and Steve’s on the way into the house, that they really didn’t want you to be here. Even though they had made you come with them it was if they didn’t have a choice. They could have left you in the house, of course, you doubted that you would have tried to leave again. Partly because you knew they would find you again but there was another part of you, and this is something you wouldn’t tell them, that didn’t want to leave them again. A part of you - that got larger every day - liked being with them. 

As you started to speak, going to argue and ask to be in the car - because as much as you liked them you didn’t want to be in the murder house - there was a long crash right outside the bedroom you were in. The door was pushed open, smashing against the wall and rattling the picture frames on the wall. A man stood in the doorway, looking widely between you and Bucky with blood running down his cheek from a nasty gash on his temple. Bucky pulled you to your feet and pushed you behind him as the man staggered in. Clearly, Bucky was unfazed and unafraid of this man.

“What the fuck do you want?” He moaned, looking at the two of you, and you stepped closer to Bucky who tightened his grip on your hand. “Take anything and go.”

“We will,” Natasha said in a sing-song voice, coming up behind him. “It just happens that we want your life.”

“Fuck you, you fucking bitc-” he wasn’t able to finish as Natasha swung one of the two small poles she had in hand. It hit in the same place as the first cut and the man went down almost instantly, collapsing on the floor with a groan. He stopped moving. You moved closer to Bucky. Blood pulled around his head, staining the white carpet in sick contrast, and Natasha bent down, dipping her gloved finger in it. Then, with some deranged finger painting skills and a more deranged smile, she painted an hourglass looking symbol with an arrow going through the middle, pointing up. 

Stepping back, she grinned at her art before turning to look at Bucky. “Are you going to do yours?”

“We don’t use blood.”

“Right, you take the boring option.” 

“We cut it into their forehead, Nat.”

“The boring option.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “you’re just bat shit crazy.”

“I know. Oh, you know what would be fun?” She asked, her gaze landing on you. “Doing it in her blood.”

“No, Nat, it’s not like that.” 

“Your symbol in her blood would show,” she cut herself off before smiling. “Would make us all very happy. Actually, you know what we should do, let doll here have her turn with one of them. See if she’s got what it takes.” 

Your eyes went wide. There was no way you were going to kill anyone. It wasn’t happening now and it wouldn’t happen in the future. Bucky shook his head. “Come on, Nat, let’s go back downstairs. They’ll be waiting for us, Steve always gets annoyed when I keep him waiting.”

Natasha shook her head, the grin not going away and the glint in her eye growing stronger as he gazes shifted to Bucky. “There’s only one left, and he’s for you.”

“He’s not dead,” Bucky pointed to the man on the floor.

Raising the pole she smashed it over his head a few more times. Each time the pole made contact you winced, by the third hit you had started cry, hands covering your mouth so you didn’t sob out loud. When the man stopped twitching and something started leaking out of his head that definitely wasn’t blood you couldn’t help but sob, feeling faint and sick. Bucky turned and let you bury your face in his chest. 

“There’s only one left and he’s for you. I’ll babysit your toy while you’re gone.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.”

“I won’t do anything,” she said, crossing her heart. 

Sighing, Bucky lightly brushed his hand down your cheek. “Steve’ll be up in a minute.”

He turned and moved towards the door, stepping over the man like he was a pile of trash, he whispered something to Natasha who grinned, shaking her head. And then he was gone, leaving you alone with a dead person and a crazy person. You were still hyperventilating, trying not to look at the floor. Natasha watched you for a moment before moving to stand beside you, even covered in blood she looked elegant as she moved - regal even. When she got to you, she rubbed circles on your back. Which was not what you were expecting her to do. 

“The first time I saw a body, I threw up.”

“Really?” You asked, calming down a little and staring at the ceiling. So long as you didn’t look down you’d be okay.

She nodded, “I was young and I came home to my parents lying dead on the ground and a man standing beside them with their blood on his hands. I vomited all over the floor. And now look at me. There’s hope for you yet.”

“I don’t want to kill people.” 

“That’s what I said when Fury took me that night, and now look at me. You learn to want to.”

“They’re people.”

“Exactly, they’re nothing,” she replied. You stared at her, meeting her eyes in a surge of confidence. As soon as you looked at the confidence drained out. She wasn’t normal and nothing you could say would faze her. And she knew it. Natasha reached out, viper fast, and grabbed your wrist. Dragging you to the wall she pulled out a knife, as soon as she did you started struggling against her. Pulling and twisting to try and get out of her hold. She rolled her eyes at you, holding your wrist even tighter. “Fighting is going to make the blood come out faster. Stand still.” 

You did as you were told simply because there was no way you would win against her. No point fighting a fight you couldn’t win. She sliced across your wrist, surprisingly she muttered a sorry when you winced. When blood came out of the cut she smeared it across her finger and painted a sloppy star the size of her head on the wall, next to her and Clint’s. Pressing on your vein she gathered more blood and, under the star, wrote ‘Little Love Doll’.

Letting go of your wrist, she nodded at the message. “Not my best work, but it’ll do.”

“Why?” 

Natasha looked at you, her expression betraying her for the first time since you meet her. She was surprised. “Because it’s right?”

“No?”

“They like you, Y/N. Like, a lot.” 

“No, they don’t.”

She shook her head, “I can’t believe you can’t see it.”

“I can’t see something that’s not there.”

“Alright, alright. Sure. Okay. Um, let’s go downstairs, they should be done by now.” She took your hand, as if you were a child, and the two of you made your way downstairs. Halfway down the stairs you stopped, turned around, and vomited. There was so much blood, it was everywhere. On the ceiling, all the walls, and the entire floor was basically a puddle of the sticky stuff. The smell was overwhelming on its own, but coupled with the visuals? It was too much. Once you had straightened up you were being pulled down the stairs again. 

Both Bucky and Steve looked concerned when you came to a stop in front of them, which was almost funny seeing as they were both covered in blood. You couldn’t see it from far away because of the dark clothes but up close it was obvious. Steve took your hand, frowning at the cut on your wrist as Bucky glared at Nat for the same reason. You kept your eyes on Steve’s because if you looked anywhere else you would probably end up passing out right there. 

Body parts lay strewn about the floor, blood was everywhere, and the smell was awful but the worst part was the fact that two of them men had stars etched into their foreheads. Knowing that those men were killed by Steve and Bucky’s hands made your head spin. But, oddly enough, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would have been. You had thought that once you saw the evidence - saw the bodies with the star and the blood on their hands and the glint in their eyes - that you’d realise you couldn’t be crushing on these people because they were crazy serial killers. 

But that didn’t happen. Not at all. No, what happened was you were finding them, a little roughed up and a little bit bloody, attractive. Even more than that, you found them more attractive than normal. 

That was a worrying thought.


	9. Chapter 9

Natasha, once you got to know her, actually wasn’t all that creepy. Sure, she was still creepy as all hell but she wasn’t creepy as fuck. There’s a difference. Creepy as fuck Natasha smiled at you like she was thinking of how you would look without skin. Creepy as all hell Natasha still smiled like that, but she also handed you a plate of biscuits to go with your hot chocolate. And Clint was way too funny for a guy with so much blood on his hands. 

Once they had finished up at the murder house Natasha had demanded you all go to their house for lunch. Steve and Bucky didn’t argue and when they turned to you Natasha raised her eyebrow and you shrugged. One eyebrow and you were freaked out. Anyway, you and the boys had followed them home and then Nat had offered you a hot chocolate - unexpected but welcomed - and then Clint had announced a guy named Sam was coming over. Steve had grinned and Bucky had groaned. And then you were offered your biscuits.

“Who’s Sam?” You asked when Natasha had moved to the kitchen of their apartment.

“A friend of ours,” Steve replied. “We’ve known each other for a few years now. He’s a good man.”

“He sucks. I hate him,” Bucky muttered. Steve ignored him. 

Clint stood when the doorbell rang, “there he is.”

“If he didn’t bring that new knife I ordered he isn’t allowed in the house,” Natasha said as she came into the room, looking as gracefully as ever. Clint nodded, brushing past her to get to the front door. “I mean it. Don’t let him in.”

A few moments later Clint and another man - Sam - walked into the room. Sam smirked, handing Natasha a brown package before turning to greet Steve. He ignored Bucky, who didn’t look upset with that interaction and ignored Sam right back, and then Sam turned to look at you. He wasn’t nearly as scary as Natasha, or even Clint for that matter, much more on Bucky and Steve’s level. But you knew him. A blurry picture had circulated a few months ago, and while you wouldn’t have been able to put the picture and Sam together if you saw him on the street, you were able to figure it out know. Context helps. He was just as bad as the others, total confirmed victims was at twenty. Random like Nat and Clint but cleaner, like Steve and Bucky. 

He stuck his hand out, “Sam Wilson.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied as you took his hand. 

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“No you haven’t,” Bucky muttered. 

Sam, again, ignored him. “I almost didn’t believe Nat when she said they had found a - what did you call it, Nat?”

“Little Love Doll.”

“I don’t like that term,” Steve said. “Just saying.”

“So, Y/N, how are you finding all this?”

“All what?”

Laughing a little, Sam spread his arms to gesture to the other people in the room. “The kidnapping and murder.”

“Oh, that. It’s great. I love it.”

“Alright, you’re funnier than Barnes, I can see why Steve likes you.”

“What the fuck, Sam?”

“Shut up, Bucky,” Sam replied shortly, his face completely flat. Bucky rolled his eyes, going back to ignoring him. Another cookie was handed to you by Steve as Sam down in front of you, taking his coffee from Nat when she handed it to him. Say what you want about her, Natasha was a good hostess. After she decided not to kill you and mount you on the wall. Of course. Sam took a sip before setting his sights on you, “so, your first trip. How’d you like it?”

You shrugged, “you’re all crazy.”

“Alright, I can see where that is coming from.” 

“We’re not crazy,” Clint argued, “we’re dedicated.”

“Too crazy people things.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that, Steve clearly wanted to - as did Nat. For a moment you were proud of yourself for getting a reaction like that out of them. Then you remembered who they were - killers (crazy) - and suddenly them liking you wasn’t as important. It took even less time for you to realise that was a lie and you were very happy with how that had panned out. Trying to kid yourself into thinking you weren’t enjoying their company and that you weren’t fine with being there was getting harder and harder. 

And more annoying every time as well if you were being honest. Truth be told, you no longer wanted to lie to yourself about what you were feeling and what that meant. The truth, your real feelings, were weird and properly wrong, yes. But they were the truth. You wanted to be there. You wanted to be with them. You wanted to go home with Steve and Bucky after you were done here. And maybe you didn’t want to go to the murder house but it wasn’t as bad as it would have been a week ago. Truth. So why did you have to lie, to yourself even?

That in itself was a dumb question, seeing as you absolutely did know why you were forcing yourself to lie. It was because you didn’t like what you were thinking. Enjoying cuddling with murders? Wanting to spend time with killers? Liking them? These weren’t normal things by any stretch of the imagination and it was almost like you could hear the rest of the world asking what the hell was wrong with you. 

But then Sam threw a balled up napkin at Bucky, who in retaliation threatened some very detailed bodily harm to which everyone laughed. And suddenly that pressure to hate them, to fear them, wasn’t there. They weren’t the scary monsters that everyone had described them as. They weren’t evil or disgusting. They were people. People that you liked and that liked you back. And when you picked up a napkin and threw it at Bucky only to receive a look that you could only describe as adoration, well, that conclusion was solidified. 

~*~

Later that night you were back in front of the fire, this time on the sofa. It was nowhere near as cold as it had been the night before but there was still a chill in the air that warranted a fire. It did not warrant you sitting pressed up Steve on said sofa. But you were, you were curdled up against his side with your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around your shoulders, your hands connected. Some movie about superheroes and discount nazis was playing on the TV but neither you or Steve were paying it any attention. 

“He is taking forever!”

“It’s only been half an hour.”

“Half an hour is way too long.”

“Probably takes like fifteen to even get into town.”

You groaned, “your reclusive lifestyle is annoying me.”

“Why?”

“I want Chinese! You’re terrible kidnappers, not feeding me.”

Steve shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Your such a drama queen.” 

“Am not.”

“He should be back in the next five minutes, does that make you happy?”

Smiling, you replied a little too loudly. “Yes!”

For a moment Steve stared at you, his eyes flicking from your smile to your eyes and back again. His gaze landed on your eyes and the two of you watched each other for a quick second of tension. Neither of you said anything but both of you moved a little closer. Almost touching noses by the time that you stopped getting closer. Everything else felt a little murky, like the rest of the world, had faded away and it was just you and Steve. You liked your lips and Steve followed the movement with hawk-like intensity. You couldn’t tell who moved first but almost instantly both of your hand changed position and suddenly you were sitting across Steve’s lap with your lips hovering of his. 

Your eyes were wide, you knew that much, but you didn’t know why. On your lap, both of Steve’s hands were entwined with yours and his thumb was running odd little patterns over the back of your hand. It was nice, natural even, to be sitting like this with him. As if you were designed to fit right there. Shockingly, the only thing you felt bad about was the fact that Bucky wasn’t there. The feeling was almost overwhelming. Apparently, it wasn’t overwhelming enough to move away or pull back. In fact, it worked in the opposite. Pushing you towards Steve. Magnets pulling closer still. 

Lips just a breath away your eyes started closing. And then a loud bang hand you jumping back. Bucky walked in a moment later, plastic bags in hand, looked at you and Steve who was still curled together for a moment, looked at Steve, looked at you and then frowned in thought. All that in only a moment before he came to an understanding and he nodded slightly, going to place the Chinese on the table. 

Before he could take his second step you were standing. Your own gaze flicking between the two men before taking off like a shot and disappearing into your bedroom. How could you sit there and nearly kiss a man with so much blood on his hands? How could you let those blood-soaked hands touch you like that? So intimate and softly? Wanting him to kiss you while missing another, just as bad as him? It was wrong and made you feel slimy as you sat on the bed, head in hands. 

A few minutes after you had taken off there was a knock on your door, interrupting your brooding session. “What?” You snapped, not moving. It was either Steve or Bucky or both and you really didn’t want to talk to either of them. 

“Hey doll,” came the reply. So it was Bucky. “Can we talk.”

“No.”

“Darling.” So you were wrong, both had come. 

“I don’t want to talk to either of you.”

There was a pause before hushed whispering started. Clearly, they didn’t want you to hear but you moved as quietly and quickly as you could to listen in. Curious to see what they had to say about the situation at hand. “-let her do what she wants,” Bucky whispered.

“Of course, but I want to make sure she isn’t to upset.”

“I know you do but she’s probably freaking out.”

“That’s why I want to talk to her,” Steve muttered. They started moving away and your eyes widened. You could hardly spy on them when they weren’t right there. As soon as a door closed in the hallway you opened yours and headed to press your ear against their bedroom door. Luckily they were talking loud enough that you could hear what they had to say. There was a small pause before Steve started talking. “I feel like we should talk about this.”

Some rustling noises and then Bucky responded, “you want to talk about everything.”

“Bucky.”

“Alright, let’s talk. I like her, you like her, from what I saw she liked you and I’m hoping she likes me. Are we done.”

“Come on, Buck.” 

“Steve.”

Their voices turned hushed for a moment, meaning that you couldn’t hear what they were saying no matter how hard you strained. It did, however, give you a moment to reflect on what Bucky has said. They liked you. Like like. You tried not to scoff to yourself - were you a six-year-old with her first crush? You were a grown woman and you were eavesdropping on these two and talking about like-likes. But, even if that is true, it didn't stop the warm feeling spread when you thought of them liking you like that. You smiled softly down at the floor at the feeling. 

Because Bucky was right. You did like Steve and you did like him. There was no hiding from that fact anymore. It was ridiculous to hide from the fact for even a moment to be completely honest. The moment you saw them you thought they were attractive and as you spent more time with them you feel more and more. Your relationship solidifying into whatever you have with them now. And you wanted that relationship to become something more as you moved on with them. 

By the time you had thought all this through, landing on your rather intense but also very obvious realization, the had started moving again. You jumped back and took cover in the bathroom as they made their way back to the living room. Sticking your head out you watched as they disappeared into the room. And then, doing the only thing you could do at that moment, you followed them.


	10. Chapter 10

Both Bucky and Steve turned to look at you when you walked in. Neither said anything and for that you were grateful. They were also both sitting on the sofa, pressed against each other. You walked around so that you were facing them, the fire warming your back, and then you stopped. Waiting for them to make the first move - well, second seeing as you had gone to them - but make the move they did. Bucky reached out first, Steve only a second behind him. They grabbed a hand each, pulling you down with a twist so that you ended up sitting in both of their laps. You weren’t complaining. 

No one said anything as you all sat there. Everyone lost in their own minds. Steve thinking about how he had messed up and how he could fix it. Bucky thinking about how to make you happy with them. And you, across their lap, thinking about how you had fallen for them. You couldn’t hide it anymore, there was simply no point. And, hopefully, they felt the same way - and if their reactions to the last ten minutes showed anything, they did. 

Really the only thing holding you back was one simple thing. Simple might not be the best way to describe it, but it was only one thing. They were killers. They had killed and they would kill again. That led you to a question - was it bad that you were attracted to them? It was probably an easy question to answer and you were sure you would have known the answer only a few weeks ago. But now it was all different. All wrong and messed up. Things weren’t as they were and suddenly all these questions weren’t as easily answered. You rested your head on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I listened to your conversation,” you admitted after some time in silence. “In your room.”

“And - uh - what do you think?”

Bucky continued, “about the whole liking each other thing.”

“You really like me?”

Steve gripped your hips and spun you around so you were facing him, straddling him and Bucky at the same time. “Let me tell you something, and I’m not great with confessing my feelings so go easy. But I love Bucky, like with my whole heart and I didn’t think I would ever like anyone nearly as much as I like him. I’d do absolutely anything for him, I’d risk everything for him. And I feel the exact same way about you. The first time we spoke I realised there was something there.”

“Really?” You asked, trying to wipe at the tears in your eyes. 

“Yeah, darling, truly.”

By his side, Bucky was grinning. “I don’t think I’ve ever agreed with Steve as strongly as right now. You’re a doll, doll.”

“I really like you two as well. There’s a part of me that, that doesn’t want to but all of me does. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Steve nodded.

“But I do like you both.”

“Damn it,” Bucky muttered.

You and Steve both looked at him and asked, “what?” 

“Now Nat was right. I hate when she’s right.”

“I don’t know Buck, I’m kind of glad she was right about this,” Steve muttered before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Shut up, Steve,” Bucky muttered before kissing you just like Steve. And it was bliss. 

~*~

The three of you ended up re-heating your dinner later on, after cuddling quietly for some time. But the food was too good to go to waste so Steve had groaned and moaned until you had moved onto Bucky’s lap and let him go and finish dinner. Bucky, who now had his arms wrapped around you, grinned at you. “So, where were you with Steve when I so rudely interrupted?”

“We were on this very sofa.”

“And what were you doing?”

“You’re both terrible flirts,” Steve called from the kitchen.

Bucky scoffed, “says you.”

“Exactly.”

“I hate him,” Bucky muttered. “So, are we going to make out or what?”

“You sound like a teenager,” you replied.

“He sounds like a horny bastard,” Steve corrected, walking in with food in hand. 

You nodded, “that too.”

Scoffing again Bucky moved you so that you were sitting beside him while Steve put the food on the coffee table in front of you. Steve sat down on the floor in front of you, his back leaning on your legs. He handed Bucky a container, which received a not-so-PG moan in reply. Steve then handed you your meal before taking his own and the three of you sat in a comfortable quiet as you ate. It didn’t take to long - you were all hungry after waiting so long for food - and then you found yourself wedged in between Steve and Bucky. Fortune cookies ready to break. 

Steve broke his first before cracking up in laughter. He couldn’t even say what his said in between laughs so he just showed you. All it said, in very large and bold text, was ‘run’ which wasn’t all that funny but after your night, anything would do. So you and Bucky followed suit and started laughing. Laughing until your stomachs hurt and you were all just shaking silently. After your laughter had died down Bucky broke his cookie, by smashing it with a closed fist and pulling the text out of the crumbs. “Your road to glory will be rocky but successful,” he screwed up the paper and threw it away, ignoring Steve’s grunt of annoyance at the act. “How prophetic.”

Unlike Bucky, you didn’t smash yours, instead, you broke it in half and pulled it out. “The love of your life is right in front of you.”

“Nice,” Bucky muttered.

“Sorry, boys, but it clearly says love and not loves. Also, neither of you are actually in front of me. The Chinese is.” 

Looking to the ceiling, as if for strength, Steve sighed. “My god there’s two of you.”

“You love us,” Bucky rolling his eyes. 

“I do.”

~*~ 

You awoke to the sun streaming across your face. Which was cliche in itself, but coupled with the fact that you were being cuddled by your new - partners? Whatever the relationship status, you were cuddling. Steve was pressed against your back, his arms circling both you and Bucky. You were pushed in the middle, leaning your head on Steve’s chest and you had one arm thrown over Bucky, who had his arms around you and Steve. Everyone was touching everyone else. It was just like the other morning when you had awoken in bed with them. Perfectly domestic and soft. Really there was no other way to describe it other than soft. The sun subtlety reflected off the white sheets and the waves crashed against the beach creating the soundtrack for the moment. Steve’s arms tightened around you as Bucky’s eyes opened, he stared at you for a second and then smiled. Nothing could have ruined the moment - not even, you came to realise, a text from another murderer - nothing. 

The two of you, Bucky and you, lay quietly until Steve stirred and woke up. Pressing his face into the back of your head. Bucky broke away from you and Steve, moving to stretch out and groaning. You missed him almost instantly and you had to stop yourself from reaching and grabbing him to pull him back. Steve clearly felt the same as his arms didn’t move, ready for Bucky to come back. Grabbing a glass of water Bucky pouted, “it’s way too early to be awake.” 

“It’s almost nine,” Steve replied.

“Yeah,” Bucky put his cup back and slid into Steve’s arms. “What are we doing today?” 

Steve shrugged, bouncing you and Bucky with him. “Shop doesn’t have to be opened until tomorrow.”

“Awesome,” Bucky said. “Means we get to spend time together.” 

“Breakfast?” Steve suggested. You and Bucky nodded your agreement but it was sometime before you actually got up. Happily spending those extra minutes wrapped up together. But when you were all getting hungry you decided to go. Bucky went to shower and you really considered going with him but chose in favour of helping Steve make your food. Although by help you meant sit on the kitchen bench as you simply watched Steve. As he mixed the eggs he smiled at you, “how are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“About last night. All this,” he clarified. You smiled softly. He was looking at you with such a carefully guarded expression, hopeful but trying to come across as neutral. At your prolonged silence Steve turned back to the eggs. Softly jumping off the counter you stepped to stand behind Steve, wrapping your arms around his waist you rested your forehead on his back. Jesus Christ, he was ripped. One of his hands covered yours. “I think I can take this as a positive?” 

You nodded. “I think you can.”

“Ridiculous. I want breakfast and you two are just cuddling,” Bucky complained. 

“Make your own breakfast, you dick.”

Bucky scowled at Steve. “You were supposed to be making it.” 

“My fault,” you replied, stepping back. “I distracted him.”

“You’re distracting,” Bucky agreed, pulling you towards him, both of you jumping to sit on the kitchen bench facing Steve. “But I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing.” 

Steve started cooking again as you and Bucky sat there and chatted about nothing in particular. And then you were sitting on an actual chair with Steve and Bucky, eating breakfast together. Under the table, Bucky started kicking your feet softly, and from the look on Steve’s face, he was doing the same to him. Steve, in retaliation and because he was very mature, threw a piece of bread of Bucky. Bucky, in turn, picked it up and ate it, never breaking eye contact with Steve. 

If this was their life you could happily see yourself sitting with them every morning. They were so, so, so sweet. Which was odd seeing as they were wanted mass murders. But they were also not just killers. They were more than that and it was that part of them that you had fallen for. The love they had for each other was more than you had ever seen. It was so strong and so pure. And honestly, it was what you wanted. 

“We should go for a walk on the beach,” Bucky suggested. 

“That’d be nice,” you nodded. 

“I was thinking just before,” Steve started not looking at you or Bucky. “If, if you plan on staying here with us then we should go and get you some clothes of your own. As much as I like seeing you in my clothes, it’s not fair. If you plan on staying.”

You smiled at him, “I don’t know, am I free to go?”

“Anytime.”

“We’d like it if you didn’t though,” Bucky said. “Just so you know.”

“I’d like to stay.” 

Steve smiled at you, looking up from his plate for the first time. His smile was blinding and so full of happiness. “Good. That’s really good. We can go and get your stuff soon, so you feel more at home here.”

“But,” Bucky said quietly looking uncomfortable, “you can’t go.” 

“What do you mean?”

“People are still looking for you,” Steve replied. 

“Oh.”

Bucky smiled at you, a reassuring smile that looked a little forced but there was enough truth to make you hopeful. “It’ll be fine, I promise. It’ll blow over soon. No, no, wait that sounds awful. I didn’t mean it like that. People will forget your face soon because the news will move on, they always do. And then we’ll be able to go out with you. We can go on a proper date, all three of us.” 

“Sounds amazing,” you replied.

“Here,” Steve said standing up along with Bucky. “We’ll go now so that we can get you a coat for our beach walk. We’ll be back soon. Promise.”

Once the dishes were cleaned up they left, telling you it shouldn’t take more than an hour as they were just getting the basics. That they would take you back out later so you could get your own things. You started the dishwasher and headed to the living room. Their computer was sitting on a desk in the corner. You’d never really looked at it before but now you wanted to see something. Starting it, you easily figured out their password - Brooklyn - and got onto the internet. 

You typed your own name in. There were hundreds of news articles, there were posts on social media and even some conspiracy theories about you. You read through them. It took you the better part of the hour but you got through a lot of them. People talked about who you were before you were taken. Most people thought you were dead somewhere, others thought you were kidnapped. Some thought you had run away, others thought you were abducted by aliens. But, Bucky had been right, there was an influx of articles the week you had been taken but slowly it had gone down. To the point where there was only one new conspiracy theory posted that week. 

As you closed the tab Steve and Bucky walked back in. They gave you a small smile, which you were able to send back. The bags were dumped on the sofa and Bucky offered you his hand, “you coming?”

“Of course.”


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning was, sadly, Monday. Which meant that Steve and Bucky had to go into work. When their alarm clock started ringing you nearly threw it against the wall, much happier to stay cuddled up in bed with them. Them going into work really messed with your plans of laying around with them all morning, spooning in their comically large bed. That sounded much nicer.

Steve was first to get up, he always was the weirdo, and then a few minutes later Bucky groaned and rolled out. You stayed in the bed, eyes closed, listening to the getting ready. It was going well until someone threw something at your head. Granted, it was soft and was thrown lightly, but it still disrupted the peace. Opening your eyes the world had been tinted purple. You pulled the blouse off your face and looked questioningly at Bucky, who was the only one in the room with you. 

“Come into work with us,” he said.

“I don’t want to get up.”

“Come on,” Steve said walking in, towel around his hips and if that sight wasn’t one you wanted to see every morning. 

Bucky, who was fully dressed sadly, tugged your hand so you were sitting up. “Come and spend time with us.” 

“We bought you new clothes so you could come out with us,” Steve pouted. “We’ll miss you.”

“You both make strong cases,” you said standing up. “I guess I have to come.”

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Bucky grinned at you. “Get dressed and then come help me with breakfast.” 

Doing as you were told, you and Steve got ready side by side. The clothes they had gotten were actually very nice, which wasn’t all that, to be honest surprising. Bucky had a great fashion sense. Once you and Steve were ready you made your way to the living area, where Bucky had already finished making pancakes. A departure from your normal breakfast, at yours and Steve’s looks he shrugged. “We’re celebrating.” 

“What are we celebrating?” You asked, taking a champagne flute filled with orange juice. 

“You coming to see where we work,” Bucky said. The three of you clinked glasses, smiling as you did so. That smile turned to a cough at the burn in your throat after taking a sip of your juice. “Also, the chance to drink at breakfast.” 

“What the fuck Bucky,” Steve said. “Was that five per cent juice ninety-five vodka.” 

Bucky shrugged, “yeah. Probably. Alright, sit.”

The three of you sat at the table in their kitchen, sharing out pancakes and fruit. It was a lot and you couldn’t figure out how Bucky had gotten the time to make all of this. There was enough to feed at least five people, but as always, Steve and Bucky both put away a decent amount. As you were finishing up you smiled across the table at Bucky, “these are pretty good pancakes. Probably the best I’ve ever had.”

“I’ll have to teach you how to make them.” 

“I guess you will.” 

~*~

Their work was exactly the way you had imagined it. It was a mechanic shop. Cars sat in a lot outside, two inside. There were three other workers there, already working when you arrived. Bucky had explained that he did a lot of the physical work while Steve was more of a manager, only working on the cars sometimes. When you arrived Bucky kissed you both on the cheek and disappeared through a door that said ‘staff only’ while Steve took you into the office. 

You sat at, what you assumed to be, Bucky’s desk. Steve started working on his computer and you logged onto Buckys. There was something you wanted to do, and first, you had to log on to Tumblr. Into the search bar, you typed ‘Star Killers’ and started reading through the posts made about the man sitting in front of you. Someone had actually connected the dots, talking about the un-confirmed pasts of the people killed at their hands. You really wanted to message them to congratulate them, which should have scared you - it would have scared you a week ago - but you didn’t. Not wanting to risk it. For about an hour and half, you messed around on social media while they worked. Not once did you consider sending for help. The thought didn’t even cross your mind. 

Standing, you smiled at Steve, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Through the door, and to your left, can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.”

He was right, the bathroom was right there. You slipped in, after sending a smile to Bucky who was with a customer. It almost made you laugh - how many people had unknowingly talked with and worked with these serial killers. They came across as very normal people, you could see how they hadn't been caught yet. Smart, likeable, cautious and random enough. If they were caught they’d probably become favourites of the True Crime Community. Two hot serial killers? People would swoon. Well, you did. 

When you walked out Bucky was standing beside the door. “We want to show you around the back, meet us there?”

“Sure, what’s back there.”

“You’ll see. We’ll be there in a minute.”

You did as directed and made your way around the back. It was sealed off, workers only, but you pushed the gate open and walked on through. Through the fence was a break area, a gazebo with benches sitting under the cover. It was very sweet. Not what you expected at a mechanic’s shop to be honest. While you were admiring it the gate was pushed open. You turned, thinking it would be Steve and Bucky. It wasn’t. It was another man with the logo of the shop - a star, the smartasses - on his chest. 

“Hey,” he said walking past you. A little too close to you. “I saw you come in with the bosses.”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. 

He had walked past you but turned when you spoke, stepping so he was in front of you. “I didn’t know they had someone else.”

“Oh, no, I-”

“No judgement here. I’m just surprised a cute girl like you would want to be with people like them.”

“What do you mean?” You asked and he took a small step forward, smiling at you like you had asked a cute but stupid question. You stepped back and the smile turned angry. “I should go, Steve and Bucky are waiting.”

Very quickly he had a grip on your wrist. It wasn’t painful but it was there. He stepped closer to you. Your chests were nearly touching. “We’re not done just yet.” 

“I think we are,” you replied trying to step back. The grip tightened. “Let me go, please.” 

“I don’t think so.”

He went to step closer still, stopping in his tracks. A knife embedded in his shoulder and a pained expression on his face. Steve and Bucky stepped up beside you, Steve pulling you into his arms while Bucky pushed the man down. His knees buckled so he ended up kneeling in front of the three of you. Steve rubbed the wrist where he had been holding you, keeping you close to his chest. “You alright darling?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said softly as Bucky yanked the knife out of the man’s shoulder, holding it to his neck. Bucky pressed a finger to his own lips, a silent but very clear message. The man stayed quiet. “Are you going to, you know?”

“Kill him?” Steve clarified and you nodded. “Yeah, we are.” 

There was no emotion. You expected something to come of it, you expected yourself to care that this man was about to lose his life. But you didn’t. It wasn’t even that he had just tried to assault you, because if it was that then you’d be happy or at least relieved that he was going to be dead. But there was nothing. You watched as Bucky pushed the knife in, kicking the man down so none of you got covered in blood. You watched and you waited for something to happen to you. Nothing did. 

Bucky wiped the knife on the man’s shirt before standing back beside you. “I’ll go and get the car, Steve make sure no one comes back here.” 

Just as he was leaving, Steve’s phone rang. Bucky didn’t look back as Steve answered it, saying hello to Nat before his face changed. Fear clear as he looked down at you. He listened to Nat for a bit before saying thank you and then hanging up and Bucky backed the car into the back area. Steve pushed you to it as Bucky got out. “Get in the car,” he ordered to Bucky. “We’ve got to go.”

“What’s happening?” He asked when all three of you were in the car. You and Steve in the back with Bucky in the front, already driving out of the shop. 

“Go home.”

“Steve.”

“Nat called, they’re onto us. She thinks we’ve got an hour before they’re out our house,” he explained. There was a tense silence in the car. Finally, Steve broke it, looking down at you with a smile. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ve planned for this kind of thing.”

Bucky smiled at you in the rear-view mirror, “it’s also not the first time we’ve run.”

“What?”

“Yeah, like four ago we ran here.”

“Are your names really Steve and James then?” You asked. Steve laughed and they both nodded. “So what are we going to do?” 

Steve kissed the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worried.” The two of them shared a look in the mirror, a look that made you even more worried about what was happening. What were they planning and why weren’t they telling you? “Guys?”

They didn’t answer, instead, they smiled at you. You frowned at them in confusion, desperate for an answer now. You didn’t get one. Instead, you got a sharp sting in your leg. Steve had injected you with something. Pushing at him didn’t do anything, the needle had gone in and it had been done. You looked at him through tears and seeing his heartbroken expression made it so much worse. Steve stroked your cheek. 

“Why?”

“You don’t deserve living on the run with us, darling, you can come home now.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh doll,” Bucky said from the front. “We don’t want you to go. But you have to.” 

Whatever was in the injection was starting to make you drowsy. It was harder to think of what to say and sounds were becoming muted. There were two Steve’s sitting beside you and two Bucky’s in front, your vision doubled and blurry at the same time. Although that could have been the tears. Steve helped you rest your head on his shoulder as he continued rubbing your shoulder. As your eyes started to close you saw Bucky, who had turned around now - had the car parked? - and was watching you. He smiled at you.

“I am home.”

~*~

When you woke up you were laying in Steve and Bucky’s bed. The sun was shining on your face and there was something in your hands. It took you a few moments to wake up fully wake up. That drug had been powerful. The dried tears on your face were uncomfortable and a stark reminder of what had just happened. When you were fully functional you sat up, pushing the blanket off and looking at what was in your hands.

An envelope. A note.

_ Doll, we’re sorry that it had to be this way. If we could change it we would, please believe us on that. The police will be arriving any minute, feel free to give us up if you want. Everything we told you is true. We never lied to you, doll. If you need anything you can contact Nat and Clint or Sam. Speaking of them, please don’t try and give them up. Not worth it. There’s also a pile of cash under the bed which you can have. Think of it as an emotional payout. Doll, you’ve been the best abductee we’ve ever had. And sorry for drugging you again. We love you, Steve and Bucky.  _

Tears started streaming down your face as sirens could be heard. You folded the tear-stained note and put it in your pocket. A loud bang sounded and then there were guns pointed at your face. Someone shouted something and the guns were lowered. You were out of it, unaware of what was happening around you. One of the police officers helped you off the bed and outside. Another police officer was breaking down the garage door. You frowned at him, why was he breaking the door?

A few minutes later and you were sitting in the back of a police car. There were so many people around the house now. Some many cars and men with guns. You were happy Steve and Bucky had already gone. A blanket was around your shoulders and a lady speaking to you. You didn’t hear anything she said. They asked if you knew where they went and you shook your head, staring out to the beach. They asked if you knew who they were. You looked them in the eyes and you shook your head. 

_ We love you. _

"I didn’t say it back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	12. Chapter 12

People were happy to see you. People loved you. People hated the Star Killers. People congratulated you for being strong. People gave you advice. People said that it was over now. People offered their condolences. People said that it would be okay. People you didn’t know cried when they saw you. People said that you were safe now. People said you were home now. People said a lot of things. You didn’t listen to any of them.

Your rescue had been major news. Everyone was talking about you. No one had survived an attack from the Star Killers before, no one had seen them. The world was convinced you were about to bring them down. Every news station was talking about you. The police had sat you on a threadbare but sot sofa and asked all sorts of questions. From where you were kept, what they did, who they talked to, what they looked like, why they took you, why they kept you, why you didn’t die. 

“I was kept in the spare bedroom the entire time. I never even meet them.” 

Three days after you were ‘rescued’ you went back to the mall. You couldn’t sit in your house anymore. It didn’t feel right, didn’t sound right. Where were the waves crashing? The owls in the forest? Where was Bucky laughing at Steve? Where was Steve calling you? Where were the things you had come to love? Where were they? It was making you stir crazy, sitting there and remembering. So you picked up your new phone and walked to the mall. A person recognised you, smiling at you as you walked past. It was hard to smile back. 

The mall was the same. Nothing had changed. The table you had sat at was still there, empty. You sat down. There was a marking on the surface, a gash in the wood, that you didn’t remember being on the table last time. Perhaps something had changed. Another person smiled at you. This time you didn’t smile back. You stood up, feeling as empty as ever, and made your way to the bathroom. Maybe you were crazy for coming here. 

But for the last three days, you had been empty. There had been nothing. No emotions. Not even sadness or despair or relief or joy or loss. Just an abyss inside of you. A therapist with the police had told you that it was normal, that you had been through a traumatic experience and it would take a moment for your brain to catch onto the fact that you were safe. It felt like you would never catch on. You figured that coming to the bathroom where it all began would do something. 

Hell, at this point you’d be alright with your brain catching on to the fact they were serial killers. Disgust over liking - loving - them would have been then this nothingness. So you walked in. It was empty, no one was in there. It made bursting into tears a lot easier. You stood to the side of the bathroom, where you had stood when they had first found you, and cried your eyes out. But still, the emptiness remained.

~*~

Two weeks after your rescue and the news had died down. People had moved on to the new true crime case. You were back and the Star Killers hadn’t killed anyone knew. It was boring now. So you were left alone, thankfully, able to now walk the streets without someone coming up to say - something. Whatever. You never really listened to them anyway. Most days you found that you were walking towards their old house. 

One day, when it was grey and misty and there was no one around, you got in a uber and drove out the town near their house. The mechanic shop they had owned was closed now, a crime scene that everyone walked past without a second thought now. Apparently, it had been a dark-tourist attraction in the beginning. You got in another car and told him to drive down the road, not telling him where you were going. A few hundred meters out from their house you told him to pull over. He looked at you like you knew where you were going but didn’t say anything. You didn’t walk along the main road. You went straight to the beach, walking as the wind blew at your coat. 

A storm was rolling in. The house when in your sights now, taped off with police tape. You stood on the beach for a long time, long enough for the tides to change, just looking at the house that you had come to love. Closing your eyes you listened to the waves, trying to commit that sound to memory. When you opened your eyes a policewoman was standing in front of you. She looked like she was about to tell you to leave but stopped at the tears rolling down your face. You must have looked an absolute sight. Standing behind the, as the media had dubbed it, murder house, and crying. The wind whipping around you and dark clouds above you. The lady went to speak when you started. 

“I was kept here. By them.”

She nodded, apparently recognising you after you spoke. The two of you stood there for a while, silently. Another car came into the driveway, a cop car. The lady looked back at the house for a moment before asking if you wanted her to take you back to the city, seeing as she was heading there anyway. You nodded but didn’t say anything else. In fact, you didn’t speak the entire way home. She seemed to think you were in your own mind but you weren’t even then. You were nowhere. 

Four days later - three weeks after you were ‘rescued’ - you couldn’t stand it anymore. You hadn’t been with them for very long but they had become your everything in that short bit of time. Being away from them, it wasn’t doable. You couldn’t stand it. The emptiness inside of you was sucking your life away, little bit by little bit. It hurt more than you cared to admit. You needed to be with again. 

A part of you knew that it wasn’t healthy to be thinking like this. The majority of you didn’t care. 

Your plan was simple but could easily get you killed. That meant it could work. Finding the address of the first house was easy, it was on a website boasting a killer-tour around your city. You never realised how much crime there was, but that really didn’t matter. You set your uber for the road over and sat back, a bag packed beside you. Once there you got another car, directing him. They hadn’t blindfolded you and you had watched out the window the entire time. You knew the way. 

Knocking on that door was the hardest and easiest thing you’d ever done. When the door opened you said one, simple, thing. “I need your help.”

Natasha grinned. “Took you long enough.” 

~*~

You were sitting in Natasha and Clint’s living room, listening to Clint and Sam arguing about a show they had watched the night before. The house was different this time around, seeing as most of their things had been packed into boxes and bags. There weren’t many though, they travelled light apparently. Sam also had his bags packed, already in their car. They were heading off, ready to abandon the town to follow Steve and Bucky. The police being onto them made everyone a little bit antsy to ditch this place.

“If you honestly think that, I don’t know what to say,” Sam said. 

“You’re wrong,” Clint replied as Nat walked in. 

She shook her head, “Sam’s right.”

“Betrayal.”

“Y/N, come help me for a second? We can leave these two idiots to their own devices for a moment. Hopefully they don’t kill each other.” You stood and followed Natasha into the kitchen, thinking over the expression she had used. Was it just a casual saying or something more … sinister? Nah, Sam and Clint seemed close, you doubted they’d kill each other. Nat was packing a drawer into a small metal box. They looked like needles but the sharp ends were slightly deformed. Curved or spilt. Each one was different. Natasha grinned at you, “I love these things. So much fun to play with.”

You picked on up, “they’re murder toys.”

“Yeah, odd name but I like it. So, you excited to see Steve and Bucky? Because I can tell you that, just before they ditched their phone, they begged me to wait for as long as I could in case you turned up.”

“You were waiting for me?”

“If you had taken any longer we would have come and gotten you. It’s pretty clear that you guys really like each other.”

Smiling, you nodded. “Took me long enough to figure it.”

“Yeah, but it’s complicated. Right? Trying to figure out if this is alright.”

“I guess. It can be hard. You’re nicer than I thought you would be,” you confessed. 

She laughed, “I can be. Look, I was young when I started this. Fury introduced it to me and it took me a while to be okay with it all. Steve and Bucky? They were the same, I remember watching them one time. They didn’t know I was there, I was hiding out. They were so hesitant to do it, scared. I had almost forgotten what that was like. When I meet Clint he was already deep into it and Steve meet Sam so we didn’t meet him until later. It’s almost weird to be reminded that actual people don’t like what we do.”

“A lot of people don’t like it.”

“Yeah. Steve and Bucky are good people, like some of the best, and I am really happy that they’re happy. And I’m happy that you’re happy with them.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll teach you how to use these,” she said, shaking the box of needles she was holding.

You laughed, a little awkwardly, “I think I’m alright.”

“You’ll want to. Trust me,” she kissed your cheek before turning to face the living room and calling out: “Alright everyone, we’re heading out.”

“Finally,” Clint groaned as they stood and followed Nat and you to the garage. 

“What about all your stuff? In the living room?” You asked as you walked.

Shrugging, Natasha opened your door for you. “Not ours or not important. The stuff in the car is the stuff we actually want.”

“You learn to be minimalists.”

“There’s always the chance you have to run, no time to pack,” Clint said from the front. 

“You’re going to be learning all about that soon,” Natasha said. And then she was pulling out of the garage. They turned off their street as a team of police cars pulled on. Clint pressed a button that was in his hand, then there was a loud bang. You looked behind you to see a plume of smoke rising to the sky, a few flicks of fire appearing over the roofs of the houses on the street. Natasha caught your eye, “gets rid of the evidence. And if a few of them die in the process, it’s a bonus.” 

“Must be good at clearing the evidence.”

She grinned. “You’re going to fit right in.” 

~*~

Five motels, two new cars and one fake ID later you arrived in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Like, really, the nearest town was nearly three hours away. Natasha parked the car in a vacant lot on the outskirt of the small town and all of you got out. You could see the town but couldn’t hear anything from it. She checked her phone and sighed. “I can’t believe they chose somewhere so far away.” 

“If someone goes missing here the entire town will be on our case,” Sam agreed.

“You know what, I think the three of us should go back to that city, grab a stranger or two and have some fun before we settle down.”

You didn’t really listen, but after she finished you picked up on something. “Three?” 

“Do you want to come and kill someone?”

“No,” you replied. The three of them got in the car and locked the doors before you even got there. “Wait, I don’t want to be left here alone.” You didn’t get a reply, they drove off as quickly as possible. Leaving you alone, on the outskirts of the middle of nowhere. It dawned on you that this was all some sick joke, leaving you alone out here. Days away from your home. And what were you supposed to do? Go to the police and admit you willing went with three serial killers? That would never work. You looked around, wrapping your arms around your middle. Suddenly very scared. You couldn’t see this ending well. 

The only option you could see was walking to the town. It would take you a while but there were no cars on the road so you couldn’t just sit around and wait for something that wasn’t coming. You were about to set off, wishing for a hat, when a car pulled up. Fear gripped at you. It would be ironic, wouldn’t it? Being killed here. Turning, you tried to seem less afraid then you were. You could do this. Honestly, that would be a really shitty ending to your story. 

That fear left you instantly. 

It had been weeks since you had felt any real emotion. The emptiness was always there, always present. And now, now you were filled with absolute heavenly joy. 

They were here.

You weren’t sure who moved first but within only a moment you were pressed in between them, sobbing onto one of their chests. At that point, you weren’t sure who you were touching. Just that you were touching them. It was really all that mattered. Because they were here and you were here and you were together. All three of you. Steve kissed the top of your head and Bucky your cheek. 

It was also murky on who made the first move between you and Steve. But it didn’t matter. 

His lips were on yours. And then Bucky’s were only moments later. 

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) 
> 
>  
> 
> And, we're done! Which is crazy!! Thank you to everyone who read/commented/liked this. I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading! 
> 
> Question - would you want to see an epilogue to this? Maybe in the future? Let me know if that sounds like something you'd like. 
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone!


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